Dreamdrift and Star Rain : free verse poetry about disappearing into space

Ursa Major Constellation by Brian Colley on Behance.net

In the palm of the new moon
a new rhythm begins —
soul notes spiraling
around the central downbeat
of my heartbeat,
how her stellar darkheart presents
the opportunity to disappear along with it —

So that I am just the breeze and the stars,
the earth humming and the cricket chants,
the slow-motion of planetary rotation
rocking me into dreamdrift
diaphanous dissipating drowning

And all of nature echoes inside
the empty space of my skin,
where the light of celestial bodies,
perhaps now invisible to themselves,
is still bright for thousands of years
over immense distances,
reaches me as starrain ricochet ringing

I’ve been waiting for its arrival all winter and spring,
yet it is just now upon this summer swell
that I finally sense illuminations and sonic vibrations
emanated so long ago

so that I am now
and I am then

A continuum of awareness
in the enormous evolving unknown,
where larger patterns hide in a sea of changing conditions,
the constellations are my momentary still points
and where I anchor
— it is my own choice —
I am beyond obligations:
refuse to be needed or summoned!

Rather, I rest my head in the lap of Ursa Major,
the Night Bear and I — we are fecund and untamed
within the desires of our own destinies
everlasting erasing emerging
uncatchable invisible ethers
cast like a net of blaze across the vastness.

Renee Podunovich, 2021

There is something steady and familiar to me about the first new moon after Summer Solstice each year. As if the movement of awareness back outward into the world that initiates at Winter Solstice, finally feels like a fully completed exhale at this just-past-midsummer point. I live in a part of the world with dark skies and take advantage of it all summer long. In my nightly stargazing, I yearn to rise towards the heights, seeking communion with the universe, accompanied by the light and warmth of the sun and its companions; the stars. I’ve been courting Ursa Major this year. How lucky we are to be here on our living, intelligent, constantly emerging Earth. Happy Summer from the Northern Hemisphere.

Also featured in The Lark at Medium