Once, the Doctor spoke to me at length <br />of stars and prognostications, how, <br />when we observe the waxing of the Moon, <br />everything cognate to her nature--marrow <br />in bones and in trees, flesh of the river <br />mussel--increases also. He told of tides <br />and how the ocean is affixed as with a chain <br />to moonlight. I think it must be different <br />in the Cave, where no light penetrates. <br />There, I have lost hours, whole cycles of the Sun. <br />At Star Chamber, I control the spheres-- <br />a lantern hung just-so will produce the night sky <br />as if seen from a gorge; wobble it, and a comet, <br />smoky, pestilent, streaks across the Ether.<br /><br />Davis McCombs<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/star-chamber/
