The night
is a torn tapestry
where celestial bodies
burn beautifully
incinerating
the cosmic stitching
that bind us,
quantum energy
unraveling
all of reality,
as I stare
stupidly enthralled
by the awesome
complexity.
Silvers spheres
of gaseous spirals
spew atomic fury.
Other poets
and painters
have presented it better,
such a sweet
starry starry night
made to delight
all of us,
but this time
I return
my reflections
with the love
and devotion
born of
a dreamer’s
dark predilection
to romanticize
every aspect
of our lives.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
The night
is a torn tapestry
where celestial bodies
burn beautifully
incinerating
the cosmic stitching
that bind us,
quantum energy
unraveling
all of reality,
as I stare
stupidly enthralled
by the awesome
complexity.
Silvers spheres
of gaseous spirals
spew atomic fury.
Other poets
and painters
have presented it better,
such a sweet
starry starry night
made to delight
all of us,
but this time
I return
my reflections
with the love
and devotion
born of
a dreamer’s
dark predilection
to romanticize
every aspect
of our lives.
