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He travels through the Universe 
Hopping from galaxy to galaxy 
After doing what must be done 
Stopping from one star system to another 
Seeking out habitability for his super consciousness 
Turning lifelessness into life 
Each planet spinning with the stuff that dreams are made of. . .   
His dreams made manifest with mysticism and wonder 
Every solar system has a green zone 
And that is where he starts 
Out like a wizard he waves his magic wand 
Moving planets like billiard balls 
But with lots of smashing and crashing 
Fire and brimstone, he plays like a mad potter 
Until he’s satisfied with what he’s done 
But when he’s done, he’s really just begun  
To shape his world with mountains, lakes, and oceans. 
His breath he breathes into atmosphere 
A song he sings uniquely brings forth 
Greenery or purpleness, sometimes his purposefulness 
mixes the wonderfulness beyond our imagination 
Alien landscapes is what we would see 
And then the real magic begins. . . 
An infinite infinity of variations of life 
Anything he pleases, even from his sneezes 
He creates the strangest of strange 
The duck billed platypus is an example of this 
He just can’t help himself sometimes 
It’s in his nature, he’s a cosmic crusader 
An articulated animator, it’s part of his genealogy 
It makes him laugh to know that 
One day, one day 
Some lifeforms of his 
Will think him a god 
Perhaps, he is 
Perhaps 
Perhaps, he is just expressing himself 
Perhaps, he just thinks of himself 

                                                     - a galactic graffiti artist

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