Empty cosmos

 

Dying stars.

A crying nova.

I'm falling over

floating sweet leftover dreams.

I'm flowing from alien streams

into oceans of galactic purples and greens.

I sail these nebulous seas,

drifting along on the waves of antiquity.

Long distant stories from shores

many planets away from me.

Celestial clockwork skies

leave me breathless and surprised.

 

I walk this empty cosmos,

a lone planet in a universe of stars.

I watch as the ancient dusts gather.

I see them forming new suns.

I see debris,

must have been some lost planet

here long before me,

somewhere in the chasms of time.

I carry along this elliptical path

trying to find a sign.

To get my stars to align.

 

Our brain a microcosm of space it seems, 

the synapses and grey matter between,

like the floating dreams 

of a spacewalk through the whole creation of us,

a nebula of stardust.

A lost snowflake droplet

on a lake of ice, a distant star

the heavens, the sun,

this vast cosmos.

 

I walk this empty cosmos,

and one question

keeps popping into my brain.

How can there be nothing but us?

Galaxies of epic distances,

universes of unfathomable size,

but there is no life? 

This seems bizarre.

We are but one planet

orbiting one single star.

How can we believe

that we are so precious and special,

so monumentally important

that in this grand ocean of stars

there is only one

which supports life, ours?

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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100+ all new poems not shared here before.

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle