Gael Stuart

The Silver Sage

Are you ready? Come on along and read some homespun poetry as well as a jot and tittle regarding distinguished poets and their works. Gael offers a positive balance of her own nostalgia notes and poetic meanderings with those of others. [Editor's note: Gael no longer contributes to Silver Planet, but we have made her archived blog entries available as a service to our readers.]


Posted 12/08/2008

On Looking Up by Chance at the Constellations

By Gael Stuart
On Looking Up by Chance at the Constellations
   (Robert Frost, 1874–1963)

You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud
And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.
The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,
Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud.
The planets seem to interfere in their curves
But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.
We may as well go patiently on with our life,
And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun
For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drout will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake
In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break
On his particular time and personal sight.
That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.

Late last night, while driving home on the interstate, a meteor flashed into the Colorado sky directly in my line of vision. It danced brightly, grabbing my attention through the windshield. I gripped the wheel and heard myself gasp. The break in heaven was gone as quickly as a lightning bolt in a summer night’s roiling sky.

I checked my rearview mirror to be sure I hadn’t drifted into another lane while watching the streaming luminosity we call a shooting star. Here, in the extra dark, high elevation of the Rocky Mountains, we often witness them, but this one was spectacular—and the largest I have ever seen.

It did not crash out loud nor strike out fire from the cross of sun and moon or dazzle like the Northern Lights, but it was awesome. Lines from a Robert Frost poem came to mind:

     You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
     To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud . . .

I have read it is possible that meteors are debris from comets or man-made space junk reentering the atmosphere. Or—and I do like this best—perhaps the time was right for my personal sight in the calm of night.

What do you think?

By Gael Stuart
The Silver Sage Blog

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