Beside the moon his frightened, banished guest
scrawled symbols on the sky to soothe her soul,
dreamed of the worm that swallows itself whole–
the worm that grew within her troubled breast.
She cried out to the dark: “Please grant me rest
and coin to pay the weary traveller’s toll;
for every new beginning is a goal,
and every journey puts us to the test.
Give me a place to stand and, by your leave,
like Archimedes I would bend my back
to shape the cosmos as it slowly cools–
a circlet of the heavens I should weave,
a diadem of fire upon the black–
if I had time and all the proper tools.”