my soul writes
poetry the stars
are my message the universe
my home my limits undefined
turn around circle
©A. D. Joyce, 2017
When I was a kid, I was fascinated with all things outer space–planets, the moon, stars, and sun. Solar eclipses were exciting, and I remember trying to make an eclipse viewer with pieces of cardboard. There’s a total eclipse happening tonight, so in its honor, here are a trio of poems from past posts. They hint at the possibilities and flights of imagination that the heavens inspire in me.
It’s one thing to resurrect from the dead:
Hell, millions of people do that every morning.
The real miracle
is to die and walk among the living—
parched, hungry, full of holes,
tongue broken and white as chalk,
sun moon stars and earth
pressing against the small of your back—
and nobody notices a thing.
©A. D. Joyce, 2014