What laughter booms across the night sky
from the bellies of heavenly beings? Few hear it,
but sometimes the breath of heaven curls like a bard's beard
and what has only twinkled begins to beat and throb.
Behind it all a drumbeat calls over the mountains.
The villagers think it's thunder, those who are not asleep.
Only a few remain awake to see the starry, starry night
and witness what they can barely imagine how to tell.
Some nights the roar breaks the silence. One was there
when it happened, and saw, and tried to tell the secret,
and died young. How much of life he gave for this
we cannot know. We know only that something precious
as nard was poured out at the foot of these hills,
the blue, the yellow bought with solitary tears.
From The Color of Light Poems on Van Gogh's Late Paintings
Marilyn Chandler McEntyre
Not sure why this poem stuck out to me, but it did. Maybe something about the laughter from bellies of heavenly beings. I will leave this here.
take care
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