starchild

Polaris told me
in my unconsciousness
to go North

so I went North.

what to find, an oasis
of apple blossoms or
sweet nectar of intellect?

no, a Moorish castle
supplemented with
a well graffiti-covered cross.

it may not be written in the stars
but destiny certainly feels at home here.

Polaris told me
to go to mass
so I did.

among a sea of parishioners
I stood in awe.
near the top of the Cathedral-
a window.
they plant the knowledge
of this institution’s power
out of the grasp of the solid crowd below.

they offer a taste of truth-
but only to those with the
means
to reach it.

Polaris told me
sit here, my child
on this cold damp unkempt hostel floor.

eat from my knowledge
discover the fruits
I bring for my starchild.

I don’t know if I have
invented spirituality here.

Jaén, in this lost corner of the world,
hasn’t even had the courtesy
to reveal the starlit sky to me.

she has challenged my original notions
of bliss and harmony
with every aching step and meandering wander.

and still,
in the excruciatingly warm air,
I feel direction.

a new path to be broken at home.
one to be guided.
I have a map.