Polaris moved...

The Ancients braved the sea and fell their footsteps on dry lands by following the stars...trusting those silent sentinels to guide them by their permanence, by their
piercing light, by their constant and unwavering ability to light a path by land or sea.

They counted on the lights of night to never change, to always shine...to never fail them.
And they sailed.
From icy seas to shallow reefs, through storm and gale, under scorching sun and scathing wind...and sometimes through purely peaceful waves lulling them to blissful rest...they sailed.

And the stars kept watch.
And they slept not, nor fell.

My own Polaris guides me homeward...perfect light and truest north.
Showing me the way and drawing my eyes upward and away from tumultuous seas that threaten to carry me to silent depths...pulling me home.
Always trusting...believing that peace and strength and light could never fail to beam toward my own footsteps...
Saving eyes for only starlight from one place...
Simply knowing all was well because Polaris was my guide...all was safe because this one bright star would not depart my view.

And so I voyaged.

Until the day when the ocean roared and the sea rose up and my sails were torn to shreds...
The black of night pressed closer still, enough to pull away my breath...
As always I looked up to find my way...to catch my brave Polaris' light...to still my heart and calm my fear by seeing my path lit like dawn before me.
But paralyzed, I searched in vain.
The blackened sky held for me no light this night, no courage to see me safely back to calmer seas.
This night when I looked up...

Polaris had moved.
And I was lost.

My true north had fallen, moved, wandered, exploded...I knew not what.
Only that my one true thing, immovable and real
Was gone.
And I was now alone on blackened sea...craving home and peaceful skies which I feared would never be my own again.

Because Polaris moved.