Compassionless
The radiation that we think about
Most often is bright light we see. The moon
And sun embrace each other as they shout
Their opera duet, their brilliance strewn
Across the nights and days of bowing we
Have always done. The stars have bit parts on
This stage. They call out faintly in their plea.
They ache for our attention till the dawn.
Millennia go by. We note star glints
And even track their paths but more like maths
Instructors than like priests. The stellar hints
Began as screams but when we hear these wraths,
They seem to us white messages as slight
As echoes bounced on waves, sounds reduced, trite.