Blindingly jarring, the sharp summer swelter
cast across Earth in a slow-crawling haze;
the shifting of shelter, disowned by the filter,
moved while the disc crawled phase into phase.
Enveloped in silence, the eerie dark shift
was felt in the cold combined with its light —
the edge of the moving sphere cutting a rift,
splitting horizons: dusk, dawn, and night.
At once it was severed, the night and the day,
the awe giving way to a ring ethereal —
ecstatic display in a heavenly gateway:
Sol and Luna, a cosmic array, immaterial.