Cosmos— cosmic (a poem)

Saturday, March 15, 2025

Cosmos—
cosmic—
hold on now,
here we go.

I am—oscillating,
reality, stardust,
repurposed for the universe.

It had to die so we could be.
The time, the spacing out,
the reach across fields,
the waves rode,
the stretch across the mass.

Machines at the micro level,
at some point,
what is, is.

In my way—event horizon.
On my way—
about to be recycled again,
resurrected in another reality,
revealing stardust,
dancing across the fog.

Cosmos—
cosmic—
hold on now,
here we go.

No need for witness,
no need for proof,
only the silent hum
of recursion,
of matter folding in on itself.

A circuit completes,
a wave collapses,
a form dissolves into another—
on my way,
recycled again,
resurrected in another reality,
revealing stardust,
dancing across the fog.