The Ship of Stars

Silence haunts the deck.
If you pause and listen,
you too can hear
star-shine glisten.

Celestial songs chime;
an angel’s feather falls
like a rhyme through the night;
a shred of cold light to illuminate
the way ahead. At the tiller,

the captain grips the ship’s wheel,
as a lighthouse of fireflies
steals a way through grim rocks.
The canvas sails clatter in the wind
as if clapping hands.

Portholes are pale moons.
Cabin lanterns are tiny suns.
The hull is a curve of coloured teak.
Sailors creak across deck
where starfish flounder

and with one eye on the telescope
they watch the night’s speckled face glint,
watch the sea’s freckles glisten,
watch the moon mouthing
a prayer –
as the ship of stars
sails towards the brightness
of what dawn offers the world.