Along an orbit charted by the sun
A charging cruiser swings,
With flaring jets
It sweeps a path elliptic.
At his set
A somber man keeps vigil for the call
Of other ships that rendezvous.
On beamed light that pulses as alive
With modulated frequencies
An alien intelligence.
And scans the message,
Then returns to sit
And contemplate again with weary gaze
He idly tunes
The photophones to scope a sullen sky
Whose barren waste of star embedded night
Has settled on his own immortal soul
A touch of its aridity.
And listens, half unconscious, to the dry
Hypnotic rustle of the myriad stars,
Note: Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, November 1994.