Number the Stars
We are so arrogant as to dismiss the gods,
Making it so easy for the gods
To dismiss us.
We are so arrogant as to try to quantify love.
We are so arrogant with our bows, trying to shoot love from the sky.
We are so arrogant as to try to build a golden trellis
Adorned with blood red roses
That rises up toward our visions of heaven in the clouds.
The gods have no need for gold or blood red roses.
They pluck us as we climb and down we tumble.
We are so arrogant as to try to number the stars
When there are so many more stars
Than the days we have remaining
And are too afraid to number.
The stars remain in their frozen dignity.
We dissolve day-by-day in our fragile and debased less and less love.
We are so arrogant as to dream
More than we sleep,
Want more than we need,
Take more than we try.
- © John Tustin 2022
John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
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