We who would witness Aurora Borealis stand on the deck
of our ship and lift our eyes.

Will it take three nights or three decades to form
the questions?

What moves Spirit?

Are we specks of star dust, exploding as we reach
atmosphere’s unending birth?

Will reindeer, cod, birch, and stone be dazzled?

Will we seize Aurora’s wonder?

Will we sigh and moan?

Will Aurora yield vast rays of purple, green, and white?

Will the vast rays dance, limber and spacious, cold and
windy amongst the stars?

Will unnamed northern beings see them in the inner
reaches of their eyes?