When you look at the sky

She said,

What do you see?

I don’t know I said,

For I do not see.

I could say I left a tear,

When I gazed at the stars

Nothing I would see.

No Arrernte, Nuada, Rangi.

No dust, not a single goodbye.

Just space and dust that flies.

I would contemplate,

A continuum becoming

A unique beautiful perfection,

A joy turning in

The dreamed Gaia over eons.

I could say that I see,

Stories of those who were

Travelling across seas,

Chanting words and prayers

Hepit telling me tales,

For I could look up and gaze,

I would lose myself

In a instant of eternity.

And I would dare to ask:

Tell me the name of such divinity.

I would see the chambers

Creating the light, the darkness.

Taranis’ thunders in my emptiness.

Yet instead I see no more than,

Suns, stars, systems and alike.

For I would ever see,

A mere speck on my duality.

I see the planet Jupiter,

Yet cannot hear songs that were sung,

I see million light-years,

Yet cannot hear hopes that were hung,

I see the giant Neptune,

Yet I cannot hear my own heart beating,

I see the Kuiper belt,

Yet cannot see the dead and the living.

I looked up at the sky,

And I would see nothing,

But a dark veil.

No Teshub, no Aether

A lost soul,

Who laboured to no avail.

I would look up at the sky

To see confounding glimmers,

I’d wish to be held by Nephele,

Be given comfort, and whispers.

Instead what I see,

Sun, helium, and dark matter.

And how could I ever see,

What I should ever nurture,

Am I not a foolish,

Hoping to forever see anew,

Am I not trying,

To pierce what left me askew?

Forever, trying over and over.

Piercing through a black

Confusion. Void of disillusion.

Work of gravitation:

A fraction of an explanation.

Methane, hydrogen,

The sun and its aphelion.

Ices, belts, the moon.

Centaur and its region.

The dense milky way,

Neptune’s outward migration.

Close your eyes,

And tell me.

When you look at the sky

She asked,

What do you see?