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STARSHIP SATOR AREPO
STARSHIP SATOR AREPO
It was the year two thousand eighty-five
when we boarded Starship Sator Arepo.
Astronauts are we, seeking adventures in the cosmic seas
while looking for rogue planets beyond the Milky Way.
3... 2... 1...Liftoff!
We hurled through space at the cosmic speed limit
traveling light years beyond our galaxy.
On day 35 it happened—a sea of stardust,
then a spark, then nothing but black emptiness.
We drifted aimlessly in the darkness, slowly suspecting
the space we’re traveling in is of a different sort
from what we thought whenever the word “space”
was decked out by our fantasies back on Earth.
For decades we wandered about in the inky crepuscle,
our interstellar distress messages unanswered,
surmising our drift was even deeper than we first believed,
that knowledge is blue naiveté, determined with measured perceptivity.
We now suspect that what we claim is space
and glassy clarity around Arepo’s hull
is not a black hole; it’s spirit, everlasting and impalpable.
We have strayed into spiritual seas.
I look out the cockpit window into the black nothingness.
Suddenly, there is a spark.
Then a sea of stardust.
And the universe begins again.
Copyright ©
Yellow Rose
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