Coronae, Divine and Human
Humans sicken me,
with their pandemic smallness —
Coronal dreaming.
Sun and moon wear crowns,
rarely visible — man apes
gods with mere gold hats.
Civilizations
die, being but manmade things —
Nature outlives Art.
There is good news in everything, for all suffering will be redeemed. Among the good news in our collective death dance into tyranny, for instance, is the happy truth, revealed by stark contrast (like the sun’s corona, which appears only during a total eclipse), that our greatest follies, and the great fools who lead them, are mere ephemeral events in the cosmic cycle. Our moral catastrophes and irrational inhumanities — as we may see ever more clearly during this darkening noonday sky — are little more than misplaced pebbles in the grand mosaic. Someone, someday, will find them quaint, almost a pleasant fortuity, like a mole that we say “gives a bit of character” to otherwise flawless skin.
Above all, this moment of human darkness — the total eclipse of our earthly light — brings the unperturbed continuity of life into clearest view.
