By Katie George
The cosmos haunt my mind like an infinity of twinkling ghosts.
My spirit is plagued by them, as their grace is so binding
It draws its captive in, a vacuum of eclectic energy.
Those stars call out, “Believe in something
Greater than yourself,” and yet I know
My soul is the one to decide.
My soul chooses like
Happens to be choice.
These stars are God’s wet tears,
I have decided, and yet I cannot tell if
The cosmic drops are the happy kind or sad.
I have just learned to thank those stars for time, as
Still when I—a living creature—blink up at them, I realize
Their burning spectral light shines even when they are dead.
I wrote this poem for a creative writing class in late 2016. Though I don’t typically write poetry, I enjoyed writing this one. My professor asked our class to work on a portfolio of poetry, and I was honestly pretty annoyed. My “specialty” (I feel like a total dork writing this out) is the novel, but I understood the point of assignment… And I’m thankful she exposed us to various mediums of writing, though I haven’t written a poem since that class.
For my portfolio, I decided to write five poems that revolved around the five elements. You may be thinking, aren’t there are only four elements? Well, I thought so too. I wrote my poems for earth, water, fire, and wind, and I wasn’t completely satisfied. Something was missing…
A few days later, I discovered there is actually a fifth element inJapanese philosophy (stemming from the Buddhist tradition), and that is void. Void relates to the energy we cannot see. Void is pure energy, and it is beyond what our normal day-to-day experience. Simply put, void is what makes us feel, what makes us create, what makes us thrive.
This poem isn’t a masterpiece. In fact, I didn’t put a lot of thought in it. I just knew I wanted its shape to be like that of an hourglass, and it needed to relate to the cosmos. Through those two requirements, this poem was born.
I hope you enjoy it, but don’t read too far into it. Though I love analyzing poetry and literature, there is something about reading it the first time before ruminating on each aching word.
Until next time,