Ode to Nyx by Garret Stirland

Black velvet sky. Obsidian cradled moon. No matter how bright it shines, Luna can never illuminate all the ink that threatens her. Eventually it swallows her—space black nothing on the brink of comprehension.

Plummet into it—the nothing—a million miles in a millionth of a second. Zoom off for a thousand years or twice as much, until every atom is pried off your skeleton and every string of consciousness spins out in awful unravelling. Keep going twice as fast, a trillion times a trillion…

Emptiness will shred away our earth and sun, eventually our stars and blackholes too.

But for now Nyx holds the moon as it silvers a glassy alpine lake, she paints the Milkyway across herself to teach the turtles where to crawl, she shimmers Polaris to give mercy to sailors.

For now, she allows us to comprehend a small part.

Bio

Garret Stirland writes from his home in northern Utah, where he lives on the mountain with his beloved wife and dog.

Author's note

Nyx is the night sky. She's described by Hesoid as existing beyond the bounds of the horizon. I wanted to express her boundless and unknowable quality, while also touching the utterly finite way she is perceived by living organisms on earth.