191

Set forth, pilgrim star,
Into the vast chamber
Of the heavens. Your
Path is lit before you,

As if by a thousand
Incendiary motes.
Sound that cavity for
Us : light a slow way,

That we may follow
In the years to come
The history of your
Project and your fall.

You do not remember
Us, bright pilgrim, for
We were never yours.
Our little sleep is light.