#nebulae
A silent maw,
_carved into the velvet of spacetime,_
drinks the universe
__without sound, without shape—__
just the slow, spiraled collapse
of everything once known.
Its edge—a burning halo
of __fused copper, liquid bronze,__
and _ionized fire,_
spins at the speed of forgetting,
_blurring into a ring of sheer velocity—_
a lens where reality folds in on itself.
Around it:
__deep red streamlines,__
_maroon currents of orphaned light,_
taper and twist like oil on black water—
__gravity made visible.__
In the distance, galaxies drift—
_fractured spirals in periwinkle dust,_
nebulae __bruised in plum and violet,__
_their tendrils stretched thin_
by the pull of this ancient siphon.
It does not speak.
But it rearranges everything—
_light becomes arc,
time becomes thread,
motion becomes stillness._
The accretion disk—a
__maelstrom of starbone and ash,__
where photons skim the surface
but never escape,
trapped in orbit,
a crown of failure and flame.
Beyond the pull,
_light teeters, bends, breaks—_
an aurora of shattered timelines
wrapped in __lapis smoke,__
flickering in rhythm
to a silence we will never unhear.
Each orbit marks a memory—
_not ours,_
but the universe’s—
stitched into the architecture of collapse.
There is no edge,
no true surface,
only the illusion of descent
into perfect black—
_not emptiness,_
but __the compression of everything.__
We are bystanders.
Frozen,
watching entropy dress itself
in colors we’ve never seen before.
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 11:53 AM UTC
I open the big glossy book
full of beautiful illustrations
galaxies, nebulae, moons and stars
cross into my view
as I travel its pages
I’m awe-struck.
In the black background
clusters of color and light
this page-turning cosmic flight
humbles me
a tiny speck
in the expanding universe.
Dark matter
dark energy
dot this inner space
wasted moments
in scattered remnants
undetectable by astronomy
or particle physics
in this collapsing sun.
Thank God for the stars
in my universe
who need no telescope
or cosmic observatory
to enter the inner space
to trace and find the heart
and grace
in this still expanding speck.
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 5:26 PM UTC
Burning gases of
Tens of thousands of
Degrees burn for You.
They shine and spin,
Swirling, dancing like
A professional stage artist
Interpreting Your love.
Yes, Your love brings out
The very nature of nebulae -
Passionate fire-dancing
That will not cease
Until the one with burning
Stars for eyes returns.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
Oh, but your eyes,
Your eyes were galaxies,
Stars and nebulae—
A wonder to get lost in,
Wandering through constellations.
How come I couldn't find you?
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC