i.
To yonder star in
the vantablack of silence:
Oh— how I held you
as the icon of my eyes,
my starlight, oh Venus bright.
ii.
Citrus light guides my
path, astray in the evening
dark. Oranges are
the Yuletide fruit, and I
will return with the first Sun.
iii.
Through valleys deep and
upon the hillstop, the world
watches through His eye—
Khonshu minds the travelers
through the long, moonlit journeys.
iv.
I am inclined to
believe that I have stepped in
countless dominions
of dryads taking shelter in
elder Loblolly pines.
v.
When I die, return
me to the shores where I was
given creation.
Return me — I hear siren
songs ‘lone in the cobalt deep.
