Sonnet 164, The Stars Are Moving... Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The stars are moving in mystical ways
Above our discernment and in our thought,
Numbered are all our earthly working days
Like everything here that to us is taught.
We are baffled to the imperious blaze
Turning toward an insoluble knot,
In globular cluster of unknown maze
To far away to be argued with or sought.
As sun settles down and moon again rises
There are distances, impossible, unknown
Never to us seen never to us clear.
Swirling nebulous of gleaming disguises
In the sphere of the harmonious tone,
The fate of our lives for eternally here.