The sun has yet to rise, but the silver sky has extinguished
the stars. Haleakalâ is black against the rising light.
Maybe someone should say the mountain before dawn
is darker than the mountain at midnight under starlight. It is.
Last night, stars hovered at my fingertips. If there is fire,
it is beyond me. On one side of the sky, Venus blazed
near Castor and Pollux. On the other, Jupiter brooded
over the volcano. If light creates distance,
then darkness draws us together. On nights when Venus
is on my right hand, and Jupiter on my left, I can’t imagine
the world going on without me, but I am confident. It will.
With three nights yet to fill, the bold moon displays the face
of change to us, journeying between the light
and its reflection. This morning, a single star shone to mark
our direction. There is only a small gathering of light,
but with the mountain as a guide, any road through day will do.