Night Ponderings

The black hand of night wrings out the sky,

squeezing out sparks, shards of stars, fragments aglow.

Along the sky’s rim had shone a line of red

that’s now given way to darker hues.

Once the sun has wandered out of sight,

the night sets the moon out in its place

and underneath its cool, gentle light,

a chorus of stars rises in song:

Let us soothe everyone burdened with care

in this, this clear light from above;

and sing all souls asleep that wander the earth

so hearts may know fullness, if only just once.

Fleck the inky face of night with stars

so that the void seems not to yawn so deep;

weave strands of empathy into the Milky Way,

tucking in the inscrutables of the universe.

Another one of nature’s wonders:

across the sheet of sky the stars grow still.

A single point flares up and then is gone

—in the blink of an eye, a comet’s career.

So, too, a life that’s set ablaze with glory—

runs like this, right? I used to dream of having one.

Tonight, I saw a shooting star burn out

and shook, afraid someday to be a star.

(1971)

___

Pitpreecha, Chiranan. ใบไม้ที่หายไป (The leaf that went missing). Bangkok: Aan Thai Press, 1989.