Piano notes drift in the
rainy evening,
like sadness from a
clock.
You were the color
in my dreams.
The paint on my
canvas.

A star born at the edge of our universe,
gray haired now and older than the Big Bust.
Technology’s Webb has pulled the rug out
sending science math and models stumbling.
Suddenly we are fly falling through space/time, infinities spreading infinitely.
A maul opens wide to swallow all in awe,  
leaving lost sheepish looks on academics.
Most humans living in somnambulant’s dream, naive to the allusions of red shift in gold leaf mirrors, chained Cave dwellers in a daze.
“Everyday, everyday I have the blues ...”
a Milky Way song!

-cec