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?
Copyright © Terry Ireland | Year Posted 2022
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