Perspective: A Poem
In five billion years or so,
perhaps even six,
our Sun will begin
the slow process of dying.
At that time, our star will
grow and grow and grow
until it becomes a seething
destined to shed its outer coat
and transform into a
short-lived planetary nebula,
followed then by nothing more than
a cooling core called a ‘white dwarf’ -
a process that will take several
million years to complete and
could even stretch to another billion.
How strange, it occasionally seems,
to be given the opportunity
to witness from a front row seat
a mere nanosecond
— not even —
of this blazing celestial life,
quantified in such hard to fathom
terms as ‘millions’ and ‘billions’
compared to our trivial tens.
I imagine it would be something like
a mayfly trying to grasp,
trying desperately to comprehend
the lifespan of a Greenland shark.
Though even this doesn’t
seem a close enough analogy.
And now that I think about it,
I’m not sure there is one.
My point being,
one need only look up at the Milky Way
from time to time,
in order to fully apprehend
the absolute enormity of our littleness
and the true tragedy of our inhumanity
toward our fellow man.