position a star and its children
-with planets chained to looped paths,
preceding an elipsis or question mark,
following automatic trails of those before-
and then tell me its hard work
to redefine what’s written
in the universe’s script.
a moon protects its world,
with craters and wounds as deep
as its loyalty to its world:
it wears each mark like a medal,
hangs a flag of surrender in strange patriotism.
honour the way it shields humanity from the truth
of rebel bodies that fly like fiends,
hurtle towards another to destroy.
our admiration for its duty almost rivals
the mystery of its darker side.
don’t forget secrets hide far behind its face.
no one wants to find them (or even look)
for fear of some greater meaning.
silence as every scream upon this marble
of teal oceans or slate in stacks
fades away into the blankness that will one day engulf itself.
similar to a star’s vicious explosion in supernovae,
and flying colours illuminate a night sky
(though time’s a construct),
saturate a black oblivion
for a split second.
the brightness of hope
blinds an onlooker, who only wanted
change, and a reason.
i sit before the dark matter,
and empathise with a burning ball of gas.
beside me, a bird perched upon a branch,
wishing for conscious thought
to love the cosmic glitter it can never reach.
space and its magic astounds no one.
not anymore. with a complex to stagger every earlier age,
we lack comprehension and love for our star,
born into a life of chaos and painful heat,
finally satisfied with its cold death
as it descends into a dormant state,
from which no light can escape-
perhaps an effect of its longing for hope
which it was denied for so long.
we pose on a grassy mound in utter darkness,
stare at a gigantic question mark.
look upon a constellation of strength
and wisdom, possessed by its own dark energy,
expands towards the point of no return,
sneaks into repose, where we dream of love
(unrequited but meant-to-be nevertheless).
someday we’ll thank our lucky stars,
but for now, we’ll lean on an elipsis
and wait for some reckoning.
in bewilderment of the moon’s power
to set the most sane man loose into an odd freedom,
prompting a question about his trivial existence,
and the moon smiles back.