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Poem

Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote 
blue sphere, purling,

spinning helplessly 
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free; 
to reach out.

Scorpius sprawls low 
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse 
twinkling, twitching; 
inexplicably still breathing, 
expelling the last 
of her precious plexine light 
in a final, desperate act

to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.

Projecting dreams; visions 
like swirling Akashic holograms 
leaping forth from ancient pages 
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.

Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction; 
fierce energy bombarding; 
burning across the universe.

Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder 
at a divine banquet 
for dark gods.

Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach 
of her vengeful tail.

The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains 
rebirth her fires,

igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm 
of black oblivion.

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