The star of riches in shining on you
says the fortune cookie fortune,
and I ponder the indefiniteness
cast on everything after the first
preposition but stick it on the edge
of my computer anyway. In shining
on me what? In shining on me,
decides to pour forth a double
dose of its gifts or decides plain
shining is quite enough, thank you,
you're welcome? In which of the many
paper bag lanterns filled with sand
and little votives lining the pathways
around the square will I find that
particular star with my name on it?
The painter wrote un rocío de prismas
sus encantos de mañanas plácidas
por cien meaning he has faith
in the tenancy of light beyond
a hundred mornings. And so perhaps
I should as well, for what difference
is there really between what flickers
so brightly but so far away and all
that we've gathered here, closer at hand?
~ with a line from Armando Valero's "Soy"
In response to Via Negativa: Preoccupied.