With the Voyager’s wind at our back,
hear me say: HALLELUJAH!
It’s right here—all the love that ever was—
on a pale blue dot, suspended in a sunbeam.
(Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya.)
Here. Home. The true and only one.
Half a pixel in a wash of darkened gray.
Dark like the soil of land weeping life.
Dark like grief. Dark like the space between
fires on a cold and a broken night.
Hear me say: HALLELUJAH!
You have soil under your nails, and
a fire in your soul. Carry it steadfast,
and with caution. Honor its burn.
Bow not to a darkness that merely seems strong.
You are stronger. You, plus me. And yours.
And mine. And theirs. And theirs.
(I used to live alone before I knew ya.)
Like fruits and the trees, we cry when clawed.
Our awe. Our agony. Our awakening.
Hear us say: HALLELUJAH!

his frail form
offers a salted tribute
to the warriors lying
dead and dying on and under
his geta.  A thousand
clacking sounds rise up
into the stormy seas as
these tiny samurai know
defeat once
again.

In Memory of Carl Sagan

his pale blue
sense of wonder
suspended
in a sunbeam

taught beauty in
the faint sensation
of our atoms
put together.

a legacy of
dust and stars
billions upon billions
of stars

I saw the sky and
endless possibility
stretch over me like
broken shackles
form the past

and we remain the
momentary masters
of a fraction
of a dot.

© Ben Ditmars 2014