The Meeting Adjourns

In the great black bowl of the sky, the stars watch. Although they tried, they could not see the animals streaking away to the fragile protection of remaining homelands. Indeed, the stars cannot see anything but a great grey ball beneath them, turning and turning as it wings its way around the sun.

The stars feel empty--no longer do bears, rams, lions, snakes, and coyotes roam in their midst. No longer do shimmering dippers pour cosmic waters into the great goblet of the sky.
Now, stars are just stars, stripped of names and stories. With nothing to hold them, they slip away, one by one, retreating into the infinite distance, sliding through the universe into the furthest reaches of darkness.

Will they wait, again, the stars,
To be named once more?
For the stories to begin?
For the creatures to come
To make light of the darkness?

Or did this time the meeting adjourn
Forevermore?


© 2001 Jeanne C. Wilkinson