Can I find a spark in this darkness
see through this grim mass
that surrounds my small galaxy
to see a dawn
within that gloomy volume,
experience colors unseeable,
hear a beating heart,
feel its pulsating energy?
This poem came about after reading an article about and seeing images of the Pillars of Creation captured by the Webb Telescope. Images are gathered by astronomers who can “see” the small dots of red from long wavelengths of light within the nebulas of dust somewhere in the constellation Serpens. Today I was feeling depressed and this poem also expresses that experience. It is a challenge, in the midst of depression, to see any light, feel any life, but reading this article and seeing the pictures, ****** me through the cold hard dust enough to see emanating light.