Astral Wind

When I arise and spread my wings
the teeming stars desert for me
their inky velvet voids, and flee
the passage of my majesty,
and choirs of angels and demons sing

titanic hymns, but silently.
Uncharted gulfs are mine to roam;
vast maws of nothingness my home;
no rule have I but endless-strewn
immeasurable empery.

I am Tourbillion and Simoun
and Zephyr of the wastes, who ride
abyssal canyons of all skies;
my writ is all ephemerides;
my robes both swarth and ciclatoun.

Still constellations are my loom,
fine wisps of star-flung motes my thread,
to weave gilt garments vastly spread
for princes, all celestial bred;
princesses, pale eburnian moons.

My sceptre strikes the stellar clouds.
No orb I own (all orbs are mine).
My throne is damascened with Time  –
a lacework exquisite to wind
about my infinite unbound.

My celebrants are scarlet dawns
that sweep the shores of distant worlds,
my ministrants the tides that whirl
through detritus of sunsets furled
in fields where suns are yet unborn.

Let sound then those titanic hymns
to mark my passing majesty.
Let teeming stars forsake for me
their inky velvet voids, and flee  –
for I arise and spread my wings.

From ‘Nature’

2 thoughts on “Astral Wind

  1. The majesty, the awe-inspiring vocabulary, the iambic tetrameter and the glorious imagery combine to make this poem soar in keeping with its subject matter.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Jacydo. This is my only poem in the ‘Cosmic’ vein initiated by George Sterling (‘Testimony of the Suns’, 1904) and taken up by his protégé, Clark Ashton Smith. I admire the work of these turn-of-the-century Californian poets (Sterling, Nora May French, Smith); they wrote – perhaps the last to do so – in the English Romantic tradition (the ‘pure poetry’ tradition of Spenser), in decline from about 1900, and braving Eliot’s ‘desolation’ 🙂 ).

      Liked by 1 person

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