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We know the Universe
is largely made of nothing,
vast as the space between the atoms
of our bodies. Bravely,
we send our tiny moth-like probes
out into the night,
their solar-panels spread
like fragile wings, they are drawn
toward the ancient glow of galaxies
a billion years extinct.
II. The Minor Planet Vesta Spawns
the Major Asteroid Braille
Long before the Vestal Virgins
let the sacred flame burn out,
long before the Goddess of the Hearth
joined a league of drifting rocks,
the Asteroid Braille was formed
from Vesta's side, and flung
toward Apollo.
Tumbling in the solar wind,
Braille is now in near-Earth orbit,
a mischief-maker flirting with
collision,
aching for a chance to play with fire.
III. Star Mole
The star-nosed mole
has never seen the sky, is unaware
the canopy of night glows
in celebration of her stellar snout.
IV. Star Prayer
The story of our Past
is embossed on flying rock,
the asteroids
that grope their way around the sun,
measuring the stretch of time
between the last big bang and the next
big crunch.
Each night the sky opens
like a prayer etched in braille. We
stretch
our fingers out toward the stars,
in supplication, and though we
cannot see
where it is we are going.
we are filled with the hope
of Tomorrow.
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About the Author
Billie Dee lives and works in Southern California, has written many poems about science and medicine. Her reent work is filled with concrete imagery, layered metaphor, highly textured language, and "...those odd moments that snap you into new awareness." She is the author of three poetry chapbooks, the latest of which, Painting the Dog, is available through her website at http://www.billiedee.com. |
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