PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Had my memory not broken away from me before,
I would share with old peers this new nebula I've sighted.
All's for the best -- surely the lot of them would beg, implore;
demean themselves to ride atop this vessel, ignited.
The will of it to know and be familiar with itself
can only frighten those whose dread for subjugation reigns.
It pulses its arching, celestial brow, and dispels
the shroud that obscured and danced as if heated by black space.
Bidden by a curling finger I feel drawn to comply.
Though steadfast and cautious, I ease into a slow descent;
observing in quiet whilst precious glass was covered by
this visible warmth that consumed as I laid down against
a panel which already knew the way I'd be going.
Fissures forming somewhere close and the cold came out to bite.
My thoughts ran screaming from my nose while the door was glowing
from the nebula bathing my entirety in light.
A clutching softness manifested, spherical in shape,
and forced me into a landing to complete my escape.

Any hint of a chill was driven away from me as
I came to, and stood to set foot upon this gathered place --
firm and pressing, exiting to confront this new thing and
make myself aware of all the possibilities made
by its being, I held expression free of any doubt
and without hesitation, introduced myself to it.
It hefted a return with its voice, beautiful and loud,
distinct and full of vagrant echoes deep below its lip.
The exchange came to deepen with one shared revelation:
that we were vessels of differing size, now collided,
due to moot circumstance drawn by chosen emulations,
and the chaos that results once order has subsided.
Through a rhythmic communique made of stars and deep dark,
it grants me a vision of where it may lay in the crawl:
a place I'd never reach with what was given at the start
of this, a sojourn into what may be nothing at all.
Had I any faith, I'm sure it would be aiding me now,
but I'll ride this distant course to the nebula without.