on trying to capture the sound that escaped me one night in early February

stars like I’ve never seen
standing knee-deep in a sea of diamonds
as the night wore pearls
I opened my mouth and sang to the pregnant sky

I am told that man is made of earth
my fingers dust, my lips mud
my body fertile soil
but every atom in me sang to those stars,
every half of a half of a half of me stretched,
ached to touch that brilliance
so that I am sure
with each tingling, trembling ending in my body
that I belong to that light
and I am made of that light
and I will soon be that light
it’s only a matter
of light years