To Sweep My Hand Through Stardust
A poem
To sweep my hand through stardust
would require immortality.
I would propel my spirit
from flesh to atmosphere,
our blue ship relinquishing
and wishing me well as I travel
back- back- back-
the way we all came here together.
Once mixed elements waiting to become souls,
to become minds to recognize the majesty we spring from.
Billions of years,
but finally, we’ve learned to see,
to look back through time,
to the cradle of our origins.
I’d send my hand up-out,
bouncing from telescope to lens,
to hitch a ride on solar currents.
The dust that births stars awaits
out there in the dark.
I would see it myself,
stroke the cosmic immensity,
for I am made of multitudes
and like calls to like.
Gravity would pull me in as new
planets birthed.
I could begin the journey again,
could ride through the universe —
a planet freshly shaped carrying me,
and count the millennia
until we find our way back again.
AJK 2024
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Still on my deep space thing, I guess. I’m not sorry about it.
