Nia’s Chart Table

(Introduction to “The Eye of Tiberius”)

Coffee stains on paper all from Nia's cup
no beginning no end each one a circle bleeding through
time spent sipping and spinning her course
breaching unspeakable reaches of Nature's force
her grains twice parched of precious water
her dried rings of permanence set on space
stitch together planes of ancient marks
all marked by searchers before her
some with many suns and some with only one
suns with worlds around them and some with none
vast expanses
deserts flooded with inken notes in the margins
where explorers like Nia go
to discover or to become 
one of the unknowns' fables
beyond all the suns Kaffeina spilt on Atlas
are those little sips of Nia scattered about
winged seeds sewn in the sleeves of Khronos's sable
torn and tattered corners folded and fringed
charts and stars spun across her table
Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup

Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup
dwelling on a cloth which held instructions
threads of a carefully kept promise to keep
a needle's point on a compass
a time and a place sewn into the fabric
a memento with only one stain
from her grandmothers' great cup
Nia did not know how great
one circle 
tea perhaps in one sitting
no beginning no end not long ago
eternal 
her red stitch in the plaid
holding together her words
she still sits sipping 
folding
sewing in time should the need arise
knowing then Nia would be searching now
knowing Nia would explore
knowing Nia would be sipping now
this morning 
plotting her course
so still she sits sipping her tea
sewing instructions to follow:
-– Eaoni, Eaonu, vah Ni --
Nia parsed it at the seams
-- Envah ahni freyne vi enterra fre --
She knew precisely what that means
-- Empahni ni torvu rey --
-- Se pahnni ver rehniva --
-- Cre nah crevi suna --
Something of navigation Nia ventured to think.
But secrets spiral in the cartographer's ink?
Did Empahni then translate to travel?
Nia had another riddle to unravel.
There's never language enough.
Did they name the unnameable? And get stuck?
Nia asked sipping coffee from a cup
her gaze a'grasp the instructions to follow
sewn in a tongue foreign to all but Nia
internal
primordial as the ages before
natural as the clothing her souls always wore
when they spoke her great grandchildren's language
Nia did not know how great
but they could ramble
so Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup

Where to look, Nia, think
how her mothers and fathers always found her
in just the right stitch, intersections
of time and place, coincidence? 
Circumstance. Nia's an explorer.
Think, Nia, think, they must have a brink,
neither here nor there but everywhere
there is frontier in every direction
when you live in a sphere...
it sounded like something her ancestors would say
the thought would land on her today
how the fabric may be folded
wrinkled, rippled, waved, and pierced
starlace may be layered
in a plaid of time and place
sewn together by needle and thread
like Nia's childhood seatbelt
her grandmother helped her make
to hold her to a grandfather's lap
on which she was borne her first time into space
when she was too little to reach the floor
he said she'd have to wait
but her grandmother knew Nia'd explore
     (she'd seen it all before)
so she helped Nia sew a belt to securely
fasten her to her fate
     (she was always resourceful you see)
Where to look?
Think, Nia, think.

Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup
     (grateful for the chance to)
plotting jumps with a delicate finger
tracing an intricate lacework mask
to the cusp of a void called Sum
the last place all travelled roads led,
this is where she would head
     (but only because she had to)

Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup
gingerly leafing through her charts
other worlds, other times,
other worlds, other minds,
other minds, other worlds,
where to look, Nia, think.
How'd we know? How'd we see?
How'd she come to be cast among so many suns?
Other souls who know how to weave and to sew
a string or a thread into the fabric of time
a first leap into the black marbled holds,
to the folds of space and time
to while it away in the surrounds of a soul's engulfing eye
ports, gates, and doors,
windows with no glass, infinite depths, still
and swirling,
gravity pulling and gravity pushing back
all the while there is Home reflecting
from behind a radial iris map.
Where to look? Where to look?
Think, Nia, think.
What holds The Archer's eye?
The Bull? The Gemini?
Nia sat sipping coffee from a cup
contemplating consequence and course
layers at a time

Nia knew where she was heading
she had drawn her arrows on the charts
but first one last run, the one she was dreading
to a system with a solitary sun
     (she had to, you may remember)
the last place all roads led,
the last glowing ember on the coast of Sum
host to only one body with water
with only one moon in its orbit
     (it was captured, she saw)
reflecting the flat light of its singular star, Allis Mono
Nia loathed landing on such a high-gravity world
     (but she loved her cuppa levity, it was worth it)
the one stark light made landing tight
it shallowed perception on approach
it shortened all depth of vision
thus she'd guide her ship appropriately
     (as Nia did innately and with precision)
carefully down to obtain a pert commodity
of import to her propulsion and clarity
so she would quiet the music and fire up the coms
and by custom or by protocol
she would kindly hail the tower:
“Allis One, Allis One, Allis One,
the exploration vessel Eye of Tiberius
requests a dock to set down a spell”
She drew a breath and hoped she said it well
“How many have you aboard?”
came a voice from the port
Nia sought the honest words as always
     (there were never enough)
How would you say “We Are Many”
so as not to impart any spin
in the surface language of Allis One?
“Only yours truly” Nia responded
with the last spot of coffee on her tongue
Nia made nothing if not graceful contact
she handled a big ship quite expertly
for a crew of only one so
she knew the port on Allis would scan her and it did
before it came back “Vector to pad one-one”
“roger that, lucky number” 
or maybe it was "acknowledged" 
nonetheless
while on one last drop with an errand to run
Nia'd take only one of her ashore
a Peace is more than she ever needed to absorb
all the rest would stay aboard
Nia had promises to keep and stars to explore
so many
Coffee stains on paper all from Nia's cup