We do not know what state the stars are in, nostr:npub1dsdgn279kkzrmuxxq2v686l26k8u97hjkve342zlpqcfsqk4xtpstkl2mp  - we see only what they were over more or less vast periods of time.  Hence, their exhumation - their light becoming almost a form of immortality for the fallen bodies of the heavens.  It is in this context that I would tend to read the rest of the poem - this is life, death, rebirth and immortality pictured in the seemingly endless cycles of movement.  Maybe the deranged cadence of the tender heart is the rhythm or song of one who sees this, beyond all rational, scientific refusal.  And even the earth itself is caught in this same series of interlocking cycles within the greater cycle of the cosmos.

And so, it moves.