The stars above us, govern our conditions.
(Lear 4.3. 33)
Above the house,
The same stars
As when we began;
I once thought them friendly
But now
I’m not sure,
They’re changeless,
Never grow old,
Or so it seems to us.
Perfectly solitary
In the turning night,
As ancient as their light
Shakespeare saw
The same night sky
And it brought to his mind
Cruel Fate
And its designs
On our lives.
Star crossed or blest
His heroes
Put to the test—
Like Lear, taken from his rest
Bound to a wheel
Of fire
Where his own tears
Scald
Like molten lead;
And we feel pity
And gnawing fear
Not for a man in a play
But knowing we are
Vulnerable
And it could be us any day.