The Soloist
THE SOLOIST
The Universe sang itself into being,
and we are one of it's songs.
It laughed mischievously at black holes,
that were hidden in massive throngs.
It spun a pirouette of galaxies,
danced in dizzy, joyful bliss.
It cast a spell of clustered stars,
and gave us our first kiss.
It made the wanderers to travel,
and stretched itself in time and space.
It called the Earth, all blue and wet,
and made the Milky Way our place.
It named immense and diminutive things,
it marked in secret scale.
From shooting stars, to Mayfly wings,
both in particle and cosmic braille.
All mute and quiet deep in space,
and earthbound songs usurping.
Exploding stars we could not hear,
but heard the crickets chirping.
In everywhere and anytime,
it shows us something new.
We shake our heads because we know,
the Soloist's not through.
by Edlynn Nau
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2015
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