Stardust

How I dream often
Of wearing a crown
With my staff in hand;
Wearing a spotless gown
And a purple robe;
Attending to and being attended to.

Is it just my fantasy
Or an ordinance awaiting
That I dream often of being a king?

I feel on my feet’s soles
The cold thorny slippery pricking
Of mother earth.
Hollow as it were
Like a woman genitalia.
But I too am of the earth.
This dusty gemstones of earth

Still, I perceive on the crown of my head
The violet stardust of ethereality
For I too am of the heavens.
The breathing divinity of the stars.

So is it just a fantasy
Or an ordinance that we are kings?