Nocturnal Contemplation | Allen Ashley
“Look,” the older man says;
but I’m looking already.
He wants to tell me things that I already know.
I wish for a silent, cold, nocturnal contemplation.
“This is the place to be, eh?
Beyond the light pollution;
with a chance to view the cosmic dribble of the Milky Way.”
He clearly has a way with words
though I wish he’d take his words away.
I focus my binoculars on the Pleiades,
even though I know that looking askance
is the best way to see them properly.
He’s speaking again:
“We think of the constellations as
flat like a map
or a blanket spread over a bed.
But really these apparent groupings
are as far distant from each other
as they are from ourselves…
Am I boring you?”
I make out like I didn’t hear.
Whatever he says,
I’m betting that the constellations
will outlast both him and his wisdom.
In human terms,
they’ve always been there.
Maybe arranged a little differently
10 or 20 thousand years ago
when we first stood upright
and looked upwards,
imagining a future
projected onto what we now realise
is stellar history.
At last he meanders back down the hill
to seek internal comfort
via whisky, tobacco or hot chocolate.
I stand and wait a while;
rewarded eventually as I watch one of the stars
f
a
l
l
but I’m looking already.
He wants to tell me things that I already know.
I wish for a silent, cold, nocturnal contemplation.
“This is the place to be, eh?
Beyond the light pollution;
with a chance to view the cosmic dribble of the Milky Way.”
He clearly has a way with words
though I wish he’d take his words away.
I focus my binoculars on the Pleiades,
even though I know that looking askance
is the best way to see them properly.
He’s speaking again:
“We think of the constellations as
flat like a map
or a blanket spread over a bed.
But really these apparent groupings
are as far distant from each other
as they are from ourselves…
Am I boring you?”
I make out like I didn’t hear.
Whatever he says,
I’m betting that the constellations
will outlast both him and his wisdom.
In human terms,
they’ve always been there.
Maybe arranged a little differently
10 or 20 thousand years ago
when we first stood upright
and looked upwards,
imagining a future
projected onto what we now realise
is stellar history.
At last he meanders back down the hill
to seek internal comfort
via whisky, tobacco or hot chocolate.
I stand and wait a while;
rewarded eventually as I watch one of the stars
f
a
l
l