In the midnight sky I glanced
an old friend.
Tonight, she was inverted,
and staring back at me, up side, down.
I’m used to seeing her come up over the horizon (southeast is where I like to see her, usually, coming up fast, over the hills, and over the trees, and then, over-head).
In her upright position, of course (THAT time of year).
She looks like a “W”, you know.
Good old Cassiopeia.
They say that if you invert a flag, it is a sign of distress.
Boy, am I distressed (and I just know that my enemy loves that).
But a lovely constellation she is, and a reminder that even when neck-deep in blood and bullshit, beauty can still hang in the heavens, even when beauty is upside-down.
That ol’ constellation, she’s a part of something else.
I want to think she has something to do with the “scorpion” (ain’t it kewl? And my God, what a sting).
But, I don’t really know (and can’t really recollect). Probably don’t much matter, anyway. Not in the grand scheme.
She’s a pretty set of stars.
But I digress.
Such a monumental eve, eh folk?
Wish’d I could muster a prayer, but all I have left is a sigh.
So, it’s off to bed with dreams of constellations and stars, sailing ships, and rough seas ahead.
Does any man know where the love of God goes?
May good men rise to the challenge, like an iron-sided ship against a rogue wave.
And may there always be some star by which to sail the fat, heavy beast.
And tomorrow dawns a new day!
Let’s cut some new water, and just pray we don’t sink.