The light of Bastet

you get but one, even if
you think yourself feline
beware of the sick curiosity
toward the dark, for it will
consistently be at your tail

every day falls into a night
whose fists sit set, ready
to clench out the light
hold a hand to your chest,
feel the muscle set beating,
hold a hand to your gut, feel the
innards set breathing, know that
no matter the black
holes circling to suck you
under, you were born of the
Big Bang and every cell in you
shimmers in starlight. cling to Polaris
(the northern star), Sirius
(the morning star), Alpha
Orionis (queen of Orion),
or Vega, she of the brightest
most beautiful blue, she who can
affray your sadness, she who
stands next only to the sun
as the greatest of stars, or perhaps
it is the Seven Sisters
heming your heart in hope,
think only of the light,
the light, the light which
calls and calls and calls
yes, at times, a whisper,
a humming soft song
but be still and listen
it is your name
she sings.

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© 2018 Monica Lewis