I’ve learned that in the morning
light is liquid, flowing golden,
and I’ve learned that in the ocean
every motion turns to fluid,
and fish glide, learn how birds fly,
and their eyes are always open.

I’ve learned that if you stand
in the belfry when the bells ring
you can hear them in your heart
like when she calls you and the phone sings.
And I’ve learned that when you’re hoping,
light is lighter, clearer, brighter
and I’ve heard that you can see it
with eyes open

We are done trying to piece
our hearts back together
with glass and glue each time
they shatter
because there is only so much
blood one can lose
and we are strong enough each
to reach for ourselves again and we
are strong enough to be friends
and to look at the sky and to know
that there is no race to fill up
all that space

The ring around the rosy has
stopped spinning.
The dizzy blurs sharpen each blade
of grass into a wit-sharp weapon,
each grain of sand into a
contented sigh, hands
in pockets free from posy.
The pigtails have stopped bopping
up and down, the red balloon
not popped but slowly
floating round. In a corner
of a tree with clearly defined
edges, Charlotte’s daughter’s web
glimmers with dew and some
small lies but mostly caught flies
that can be eaten or cut free
with that weapon, wit-sharp,
not as shiny as it used to be but
rather dull like ashes, as
we all fall down.
You could ask, at this point,
about the purpose of slowly carrying on,
but you’d find yourself swathed
in sticky silk— this spider takes
that from no one.
She hopes your far-flung hopes
and dreams your improbable dreams,
and sometimes it seems that
being quiet is easier than being honest,
but we do our best.

If we stop learning moon names at Callisto
and Ganymede, where are the other sixty-three
whoop, there goes gravity
If Themisto stubbed his toe, how could we
teach everyone else to cringe?
We are growing,
Elara, we are learning how to reach
higher with the hands we’ve got,
how to be tiny dots full of not-quite fire
in a world so much bigger than desire.
The best advice you gave me,
Elara, was when you silently tied back
your hair and rolled up your sleeves,
cleared your throat and decided
It’s not the fire after all, it’s the light.
And I might have burned out by now
if you hadn’t just rolled up your sleeves
like that, not flaming or fuming or
running or burning but steady,
ready for the rest of forever.
You are fire and water at once,
Elara. You take my hand and we walk
calmly upward, one step
for me and one for you makes two
for womankind.
Stepping over the black hole
of expectations and into the revelations
of well-lit night. You and me,
Elara, now we’re ready.

People are full of fire,
you told me.
You said that people glow red,
their eyes full of stars that are
bigger than them, chain reactions
refracting and exploding light,
because when people are infinitely
small in the universe they fight back.
They sharpen their words with their teeth,
until swords are glistening, ready
to keep out ghosts blistering
in the heat, get out stay out,
this soul will collect and over-
flow with fire, will burn
like the sun that started it all,
will fight back,
white hot, on track,
for the right to stand tall.

I lit a candle to show you
how the hottest part of flame
is actually blue, but
you blew it out and flicked your wrist
and sent it flying high as your far-flung
hopes and you sat with me through
the darkness, ghosts gone, we are
glowing red, we are fiery and content
to sit among what we can’t see.

the look in his eyes told a different story
it was a sad story about his love for a girl
and how he wanted to give up everything for her

his hands weren't made to hold me
my heart didn't beat to love him
we always thought that we belonged
but the blood in our veins was from other planets

he was mars and she was venus
we weren't made to live happily ever after

but everytime they kissed the colors in the world
came back to life, it wasn't only black and white
and everytime they touched it was another kind of madness

it was a cold dark night
the full moon was shining bright, the stars were out
and everything in the world looked a little more magical
eyecontact and not speaking became our secret
the way your golden eyes looked into mine
you always looked right into my soul

if it's meant to be it will be her grandma used to say
and so they both died alone.

On the day I left it was 10 am Oct 2nd 2089..
I have been gone for 2 years now..
I have been on the crimson planet Mars for 8 months
I know they are going to ask, " So what was the best part of your mission."
Mars was quite amazing! I can say that I succeeded in growing plant life there and that the Earth domes worked like they were suppose to.. When the next crew gets here they will see patches of green upon green as the plant life will start to flourish.. And then the oceans will return in the next 200 years.. The strange new atmosphere of mars also sustains life in such a way that one could live for 400 years.. Its as if this planet was meant for the red blooded human race.. But although that was amazing in and of itself the best part of my mission was seeing the Earth again up close.. And then touchdown back home.. Walking out heavy toward my beautiful wife! Space is huge and full of wonder.. But there is no star that shines quite like her eyes.. A deep fiery brown that the sun is jealous of.. And then finally to hold her in my arms and smell her hair.. I smell her hair with my eyes close and find that she is my best mission ever!

Darling Mars,
Untouchable through the vast of stars,
I love you so.
Your icy caps,
Your passion red,
You are not mine.

Though I want it so.
I am Earthbound,
Landlocked to reason,
Close to the ground.

I love Earth just the same,
His pastures green,
His seas cold.
He comforts me,
When I need it most.

I promised him,
Keep my feet on the ground.
But My head is in the clouds.
Darling Mars, I yearn for you so.