Horsehead

The stained glass of a winter afternoon fades
into night that floods the landscape and sunset
colours are absorbed into the cathedral of space.

Of all the nebulae that ever swirled and sashayed,
the horsehead in its prime, one thousand five hundred
light years away, has more than earnt its place.

We can still observe its past when stars exploded
silently, unbridled by Orion, a blushing apparition
with the luminescence of another dimension

like mica in the strewn sands of time, refractions
and reflections seen only through giant telescopes,
or heard in ancient cosmic music still waiting to be played.