Sitting alone on the sand,
The bonfire is lively behind me.
Others have gone off
To comb along the strand.
My thoughts drift
Into the diamond tide above,
A treasure trove for the soul.
Each of the constellations
Will tell me a tale,
Foretell of a fortune
Held in abeyance.
There! I see my coronation.
Its diadem is crowning a path
That the moon has lit through the sea.
Then, why such unease?
I lob a look upwards
Into the trove. This costs.
Where are the gods who bribed us
Into believing? Charlatans, they faded,
Their star dust doomed to dim, as will we.
Our lives are lost in a hive touched by frost.
Just as I see a hunter
Striding in one of the clusters,
My companions re-emerge,
Encircle me and smile.
On high, as if it were a destiny,
A glinting jewel pivots my attention
To the pommel on the hunter’s hilt.
A sigil and signal,
I shall trust it to light my way home.
July 31st, 2016
stevengoldenpoetry 