All night, you weighed me up, globular, a mad-god eye,
From your jeweled grove. What weight can measure the
Sky when you unbalance so. Dark sided circumference, always
Hidden, maybe you’ve lived forever,
Planetoid Eidolon, enlarging the night, your orbit incalculable, oblong
And ancient. It frightens me to death. Staring down and down
Through the filmy epidermal sky-layers, Weightlessly, Yet
Terrifically powerful, a back lit sea magnet,
I think I will die if I look any longer, you wade across the ocean
Like a conscious balloon, Closer, Closer, falling, your singular eye askew.
Bulging horrendously, The vertical approach begins,
Bobbing ever closer.
Now I’m finished, The sky is a moon, A billion liters of water
Rise up to meet the lop-sided prospect, Incoming.
I watch this enormous death-ball trundling upward, or maybe side ward,
A cratered catastrophe, the Earth converse,
The impact will end me, antipodal bodies obliterate each other.
A titanic gravitational expulsion… then nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
That something so close and so benign can be menacing and inescapable looming over us, is a terrifying picture in my mind. Perhaps our trust in the steadfast and trustworthy is misplaced; perhaps we should see beyond the beauty, the outward show of gentle luminosity and look into the unknown heart of those who have always been there to oversee us. They are powerful and we sit beneath their pull and watch as the seas crash over us. A favourite. Sherrie