Three Pieces

Kirsty Mac Dougall

Celestial Magic

The first sparkle in the sky

framed by the window behind my desk

sprinkles her lustre dust over the end of a basic afternoon

drawing the curtains of the day closed

to unbox the magic of early evening.


Though it’s all a lie— 

we all know this is no star.

She doesn’t even twinkle.

Instead, she beams a constant shine

like eyes before the prize

spirited and sprightly

though slightly out of place against sodalite skies

still glowing with the embers of sunset.


Yet, here she gleams

out at a time when she should still be in bed

waiting for the alarm chimes of the third-quarter moon

before putting up a dazzling display

with the rest of her cosmos family.


But here Venus stands

the celestial rebel

manning night’s lighthouse

alone in the watchtower

until she’s slowly joined by her neighbours and distant cousins.


Unhurried shades of darkness replace daylight

and all its prosaic demands

until we’re finally enrobed in a wondrous black sky

sequinned with the most precious gems:

a field of uncountable stars

blooming in full darkness.


All this ushered in by a single body

beaming more brilliantly than the rest—

one rogue planet

and all her celestial magic.

The Heavens, in Wonder

When we look to the night sky

is it not always in awe

of the vast greatness— 

the endless depths of darkness

holding all of life’s mysteries

like a fishbowl around us?


When we look to the stars

is it not always in wonder

of their pendant lights—

travelling beams from a billion miles away

holding the wisdom of billions of years

like an ancient archive above us?


When we speak of the heavens

is it not always in mythical tales

of the people of the sky—

the gods of benevolence

holding the fortune of mankind

like a crystal ball before us?


As I look to the skies, I wonder

while you wonder something else

and we tell ourselves stories of the stars

to explain it all—

while the heavens stare in awe

of the billions of eyes shining below

in wonder of our wonder—

never knowing the billions of stories

we tell of them.

Our Space in Perspective

In wonder of the view below

the dots

of shoes 

of tiny 

walking

figures 

remind us of the v a s t n e s s of the world 

and 

the fleck 

of space 

we hold 

in it.

Though we feel proud as mountains

stand tall and graze the heavens

and with the s t r e t c h of an arm

pick 

stars 

from 

the 

sky.

Armed with love and contentment, we fill the universe

and

watch

the 

match-

stick 

men 

below

praising the heavens for the stars we hold in our hands.

Kirsty has loved writing in all its forms and glory since childhood. Her poetry follows a stream-of-consciousness process that she uses to make sense of the world—and herself. Kirsty’s work has appeared in Free the Verse, Poets Online, and WordSwell. She lives with her cat in Johannesburg, South Africa.