Our eyes, love, fool us yet again. That moon
leaning to kiss Izmet Bay’s horizon
seems able to enfold our island soon.
What causes our awe with this cosmic con
game, deception which enthralled ancient
wise men? Aristotle eyed earth’s atmosphere.
Ptolemy cited refracted light. Ibn
Al-Haytham blamed the brain. But for us here,
holding one another as Aka—old
Turkey’s mother goddess—holds all, our hearts
surely rule this vision. Our spirit, bold
as venerable gods guiding bright carts
through dark heavens, ascends our sacred trance.
We sail celestial seas. Feel the stars dance.
Roger Armbrust
June 16, 2009
