Erunt signa in sole, et luna et stellis…
When Tycho Brahe nosed through naked lenses,
What did he see beyond the vaulted vast
Of nightfall? Planet reels and comet dances?
The waltzing stars? Divine penumbra cast
Upon the swirling mash of supernovas?
As winter’s bigger dipper tips to lave us
With more – a sixth – of Advent’s drink,
This Nordic whisky gives us time to think
About Urania, Spirit of Hven in
A boundless astronomical disguise
Betrayed by blazing meteors (her eyes).
So ardor’s nightly thirst, spirit of heaven,
Reveals in Merak, Ursa’s major claim,
A pilgrim march that makes for Bethlehem.
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