Herders

Each Galaxy has its Guardians Constantly on watch and patrol, Spread throughout the Universe Each a part of a disparate whole. They are the Whales of Space, Entities of energy and light Making their endless journeys Through vacuum’s constant night, Attending each Star’s dying, There to record and behold That final transition into Black Hole. Watch that slow process unfold. Communicating at a frequency Only receivable by their peers Information moving back and forth Across a Galaxy’s light years. The Universe expands, spreads, Galaxies crash, disappear, merge In an apparent contradiction as Somehow some of them converge. Will the Whales carry out their task Until every living star is gone? In a dark universe of Black Holes. Will their patrols still carry on? Herders of Heavenly bodies, Now in their ultimate darkest form, Are the Whales there just to oversee A mysterious period of reform? An inexplicable part of destiny Emotionlessly awaiting a time when Suddenly there is situation where A Universe explodes with light again?