Sidereal

Tiny jewels in the inky black.

So distant, so far

from knowable

as to be imaginary.

We count the lights

- star-struck -

and half-believe our fortune

steered by stylised mythical beasts.

Distant suns are flickering out,

so sudden, so near

to infinity

as to be meaningless.

We count the dwarves

- struck-blind -

and half-believe that doomsday

arrives by ancient lore's predictions.

One dream away by Betelgeuse,

so distant, so near

to Orion

as to be part of it.

We count the chances

- blind luck -

and half-believe that others

live by universal laws of physics.