Rooks

Rock faces bejeweled by moss,
In seeking patterns we make
Meaning.
The stars must feel lost above
Alien skies, not crabs nor fish,
Snakes or dragons
                 (ladders)
Living in the world, clouds
Must always have shapes, the moon
Always a face.
Needing thing to hold onto
(Reaching)
We shy away from mystery, and
Lost language.