You can be traced from your birth
Inside gas clouds, through your life cycle
To your sometimes explosive death.
I hold my hands up to the night sky.
They can never capture
Your pathway of wings,
The immensity of this universal fire.
It's as if you hold the most distant stars
In the cup of your milky way palms,
The atoms that we are made from.
And from its depths comes miracles.
You have returned from interstellar gas.
You have come to earth this hour,
brighter than a comet, or a galactic halo.
I swear that you are not alone this hour.
They swarm around you in chaotic orbits,
Each feeling the gravitational pull
Of all the others into sudden brightness.
You are as yet vastly unaccounted for.
Your quest for silence is eternal.
Your deeper mystery is to be addressed.
