Stab and Wave

Carved a pointy stick,

Hurled it into the sky,

Popped the bulging Sun,

A pin in a yellow balloon,

Darkness followed.

And the moon disappeared.

But so many opportunistic stars,

Came out,

Like Pride week;

Proud and stong in solidarity.

So friendly the sparkles danced,

Strobe lights on a spinning glitter ball,

Diamonds on a canvas of black,

Like pearls upon your ears,

Under starlight from millions of years ago,

You look younger.

Hold me,

Before the perspective alters.

I plopped a pebble into a pond,

Ripples waved out into infinity,

Over the banks of the body,

Rolling visible over the tree tops,

And lush forrests prime,

Through the etherally volitile matrix,

Circling smoke stacks and statues,

Inundating holes and empty spaces,

Like enduring beauty and truth.

So you gently command me:

"Gather more stones,"

We cast them into Saturn's icy rings,

And watched them find thier way,

In the orbit of growing up.

I laid back,

Like to rest upon a bed,

But kept falling,

Endlessly,

Not panic stricken, but calmly,

Muscles relax, arms and back,

The bed dissolves,

Or was never there,

Made or unmade,

There is no firmament to fix upon,

Just imagination without Natural Law,

Reactions without actions,

Or before time and distance,

Kaliedoscopic road-trip,

Made for two.

Along the gradients of majesty and humility,

Sunshine revealed a carven stick,

Used to scratch a smooth river rock,

Upon its stoney edifice,

An algebraic ancestor,

Re-calcuted the Sun's consumption,

Of fuel and lonliness, and pointy sticks,

As it Un-Burst,

Hydrogen Re-Ignition under our spell,

Lights humanity's love,

Witnessed on the periphery,

Or in the very Eye,

Of acceptance and reason.