Arcturus

I've waited so long to discover
Arcturus. Perhaps I've seen this star
a thousand times - a gas giant
blazing northern skies,
more ancient than the sun,
never realising what it symbolised.

Omar Khayyam, astronomer of Persia;
the Sumerians, watching from their towers
ranged on arid plains, observed the heavens,
mesmerised by ancient planetary rays,
divining implications for their earthly ways.

Arcturus, majestic guide of herdsmen,
was their oracle, torching midnight
when the bells of animals fell silent.
Above the caravanserai along the Silk Road
to the east, constellations of the Bear
stood guard on merchants' sleep.

To the south, where argosies sailed forth
in later times to Troy, Arcturus looked down,
a brilliant, omnipresent Cyclops eye,
impervious to suffering; the far, faint
smoke of one more war, but to homing
mariners, an omen that portended storm.

Voyagers whose ocean is the firmament,
whose navigation hazards are space debris,
aerial detritus, what is it like to steer a course
by instruments, not auguries, and catch
a glimpse of Arcturus as your craft hurtles by?
 

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28.04.2003