. . . go out into the evening,
    leaving your room, of which you know each bit,
    your house is the last before the infinite, . . .
    (from Rainer Maria Rilke's "Eingang", MacIntyre translation)
  
The light which strikes my retina
as I look at the Great Galaxy in Andromeda
left there two million years ago.
(Hominids made tools from stone then, but had not yet    
    learned the use of fire.
Genetic material from certain of these hominids has been passed
from one being to another and now is in my own body.)
  
Millennia from now, humans who have
colonized the farthest reaches of our galaxy,
laboriously creating and maintaining Earth-like atmospheres,
will marvel that there once was a place so perfectly suited to
    human life
that such labor was unnecessary. (Just as we marvel that orchids,
whose precise temperature and humidity requirements would seem to necessitate a greenhouse, grow wild in the Amazon.)
  
I cannot believe in a personal God,
intervening in human affairs, but stand in awe
of the terrible force which set the stars and galaxies in motion
--strewing them like so much confetti--;
the life-force running through each living creature,                                              
as straight and true as a ray of light from that galaxy in Andromeda,
willing us to live, grow and be fruitful.

I saw galaxies in your eyes
But all you saw in mine was your own reflection.

If space and time
were to entwine
I'd loop through
the galaxies
with fantasies
infinite times
in my mind

Over stars and black holes
comets and planets
If only time and space
were to entwine
infinity would turn
into my everyday

I do not mind my walls falling, crumbling, being overrun;
you are a compassionate conqueror, and there is
sweetness in surrender, safety in your reign.
Within blankets like dunes of snow, we lie surrounded by
words not said, yet felt and known and understood.
The earth moves around the sun, and the moon
pulls water across oceans, and you are beautiful.
It is true every minute of every day, and I know it.
I suspect the stars also align at your will, but you
have told me they dance in my eyes; and reality is
flexible and water-slick in the morning hours before the sun.
You reign me in to fit into the present but let
my soul fly unguarded and unchained; you let
my heart dance with yours yet to its own beat.
Luminous supernovas and galaxies flutter over your face,
reflect on the bridge of your nose, cast shadows and brightness.
I am at a loss for words; this universe, or maybe
the language I share with you, that isn't mine,
does not have the words, is not enough to describe
you, and who you are, your significance and what you mean -
I can think of three, and they dance on my tongue.

- "i love you" cs

Riding upon an escalator of energies, I drift
inside landscapes of stars.
Inside place filled with limitless galaxies
and endless life forms.

My veil of forgetting is released
as so my human form
to celebrate my eternal flame
that burns aiding my sight.

Celestial bodies glisten,
vibrating with little voices
only a heart can hear.
Sweet music plays
trying to awaken a soul
deep within.

Heart radiates
becoming a geiger counter
a navigational tool
for my ships form to gracefully move.

Time exists not, for all is one and one is all
in the vacuum of space.
A place of Gods home, of my home
where I now know my essence is love.