space

Interstellar Saviors

In the middle of the morning
At the start of a day
I saw the beaming lights of distant
Loving people finding long waves
From celebrated corners of the fairest stellar side
They came to give us pleasant dreams
Came to help us find
In those beams of blistered vision
Pulling up to heaven
There was no resistance from the lambs
Floating into mother ship’s wombs
Landing in new feet again
This is the future we had dreamt
A utopia of science and emotion
The religion of standing still
And the blasphemy of angry will
Sent this vessel first to extinguish
Now to experience a wandering flight
Into what was once considered night
Now it’s seen as it unfolds
To be a long story not yet told
Our insignificant stance in the infinite dance
Of matter and importance none
The energetic transfer all to one
In magnetics we find solitude
Or disperse into a wash of atomic color
I await this coming wave
An invasion of the norm
The mighty ships of pirates
Arrive to free the earthly slaves.

It Takes All to be All

There are so many things to consider when being a human in this life. The speed of thought and travel velocity is become the topic of concern. Where is this madness taking us? Where are we going at such a rate. Some will always say its toward our own demise. Others will argue its evolving into a better life for All. It seems that acceptance comes more easily to some, and the death spiral is still the path of others–all wanting simply to be loved, appreciated, useful and secure, no matter what the outward elements betray.

There is no answer because there’s no question. There is only life as its always been since the inverted vortex unbeginning.

There stands a monument, in the mountains. It is but a flick on the continuum, but it’s meaning is everlasting. The pervasive entirety is good. It persuades a cynic like me to surrender. It fills the void or vacuum with intangible wellness and safety. There’s a medium of chaotic bliss. We are blessed with never, ever, having to know or understand. We shall always retain at least one mysterious non explicable notion in the theater of All.

Portable Black Hole

Is the Black Hole here too
Amidst the roll of hills
And still of water
I does follow me no matter
Can it be diverted like the stream
It wants to swallow all my dreams
Maybe I should fall in
Over expose my limited vision
Expand my particles beyond their capacity.
Let the funnel feed on me until the streaks of light are squeezed thin then dissolve into alternation
I should not fear the squeeze but I do
It’s my wholesome nocturnal home
The bridge into the central chamber
From the outermost bad behavior
When it’s done with me
I’ll know

The Grand Insignificance

What starts so seemingly big, ends in supreme insignificance. A nervous feeling, a throbbing sinus structure, a number of swishing thoughts through the mental membranes–all conspire to fabricate a reality of facts.

Then I look up at the early April Sun, warming my face from more millions of miles away than I can understand. This perspective is not a thought, but shift of reality, and it comes slamming into earth like a meteor, a contextually small particle that can easily disrupt the temporary function of another larger particle.

The science may astound, but it is the vast mystery that fills me. The insignificance of it all is what makes me feel grand.