Nocturnal Geometry

I capture moments throughout my life where I have gazed at the stars and pondered upon the Creator.

Eileen Davis
2 min readOct 10, 2022
Photo by Ryan Jacobson on Unsplash

Inverted bowl of blackish blue

Over rural acute-angled roofs,

Girls giggle, bouncing on canvas circle.

Then circumference springs support reclined friends

Musing of sacred mysteries.

Soon we slumber under Perseus’s protection.

- — -

Under beams of immortal moon,

Westward of any plotted town,

Youth leaders guide my eyes

Through magnified lenses

Upon reflective rocks,

Cratered orbs, clouded globes,

Dusted iced rock ovals —

Mere mirrors of superior suns.

— —

Under shroud of bluish black

Adjacent steepled spaces,

Sacred silence encompasses.

My gaze reaches Orion’s belt.

Unlike Orion who hunted beasts,

We’d hunted, nay gathered, ancestors home,

Mortals to achieve immortal mansions.

— —

Like spilled milk across dark granite top,

Within wire perimeters,

Feet sink in the grass,

My finger aims to Polaris

Guiding my son’s eyes above.

Two dippers stream celestial serene,

Intersect upon our axis.

— —

Beneath sky’s stalactites

Over suburban pentagonal homes

Lighted linear paths, darkened rectangle yards

My house obscured; no lights left on.

Two perched on back porch steps.

Warm wind brushes over our squared legs;

Two entwined hands triangulate.

As one outstretched grasp,

our corporeal compass circumscribes

Charted pinpoints, like glimmering glass fragments,

Pressed upon a mosaic map.

I refer to a sleepover, stargazing at a Young Women’s activity, looking at Orion’s belt after doing baptisms for the dead in the Monticello Latter-day Saint temple, and stargazing with my sons and my husband.

If you enjoyed this consider subscribing or following me on Twitter, Facebook, my personal blog, or my Vocal page.



Eileen Davis

I love language and believe every word is a poem. I majored in English language from BYU. I am a mom to four rambunctious boys. I have bipolar disorder too.