star_of_the_west pete the night was clear, the world was black and white as i walked in the light of a full, or near-full, moon. five planets graced this first clear night since that talk. the trees howled in the wind, the river gurgled past the rapids, and lapped against the banks. i filled myself with nervous energy and continued alone through first oxbow, and then the river trail, after crossing the bridge. i passed by where i walked with my friends earlier in the day; midnight neared as the moon moved from the east to the south. up to where the oak alter, no i go forward, along the unpaved path along the bloated river's edge, over the few snow patches still remaining, and around the mudpuddles. it was bitterly cold, but the cold was enlightening. i talked to myself a little bit, reciting sporatic oral poetry, reminicing to the moon (i give celestial bodies human characteristics after the person who associated themselves with them, or i associated them with. the moon is ann). i heard the water falls coming. i was above the barrier because my normal course was flooded by the meltoff and rain and snow of the last few weeks. i could not sit on the rocks, i had to stand again a manmade barrier. i looked at the sky, in the west. the falls drowned out the city, and only the lights obscured my vision of the heavens. i saw two forming a bar in the north -west, and then one below the further star, this one was bright, not as bright as the planet due west, but bright. i stared at it until my eyes started to tear and then i named it. the ethereal. the tear of heaven. the guide. serendipity. flame of joy. silent smile. the star of the west. the song of hope. meg. i consencrated it with my unfalling tears, and spoke its names (those above and a handful more which i cannot seem to remember) aloud. when this was done, i turned south and walked to the bridge, crossed it, and followed the river back home. when my hands allowed it--it was very cold--i played my harmonica in a slightly happy, slightly sad hymn to the star of the west. it shone when i entered the city again, though i never left it. i saw it through my window above the building directly across from me. sleep came as i whispered goodnight_star_of_the_west, in hope that my silent prayer, my silent hopes and beliefs, were heard by that celestial body so far away, so close to heart. 040406 what's it to you? who go blather from