Star whispers

I eavesdropped on Jupiter once
while tucked safely out of sight
and I hid beneath the rings of Saturn
while my body held the night

tides of endless blackness rolling
through my limbs, and endless tolling
bells were ringing in my head
and space was safer than my bed

I spied on Pisces once, and saw
this constellation thrash and writhe
as her stars became a hunted whale
and its hunter, a man with haunted eyes

I tiptoed past an infant star
heard its pulsing, radiant heart
and watched it sleep in a kaleidoscope bed
born from the ashes of stars long dead

and I slid past serpents asleep in blooms,
crept past gloried kings in darkened rooms,
listened to prayers on a doves fragile wing,
and I carried the vibrations as I heard the earth sing

My cells carried colours, my body became
a vessel for the thrumming and humming of all
the things that were greater than my bones or my name
the things that I search for when the ground starts to fall
out from beneath me, and all my regrets
form the quicksand that grabs me
as I struggle to stand

I eavesdropped on Jupiter once,
and heard all that she said
Saturn still hides me when I'm lying in bed
and my star trails are better
than what's in my head