When matter reflects on itself,
consciousness materializes
into something more tangible
and realizes all of existence
is floating above its head.

Matter turned and governed
by gravity’s hands.
Spun and pulled by
creative fingers,
shaped into round colorful bodies and
tossed into blackness
to dance alone.

Some are given partners,
little moons to set their mood,
to spin their silvery light around them
and sing their songs at night
to put their children to sleep.

Some stay awake for the song,
some watch their slow dance,
and some look up at the milky sky and
wonder if matter thinks about them back.