Deep and Curling Inceptions
The stars are in the water tonight,
The water is soft and black,
a cat curling round my bare arms.
The water is a cistern,
the night sky is a lake,
my arms are a prayer that compose
with the help of a hundred drowned stars.
Only a few lights now shinning
in this deep well,
but those few are melding and making,
knitting new coats
for all the unseen cats
that sleep and dream of a new reality,
one that first arrives as a dream,
only to be, in due time, the world itself
when just some of those stars align.
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