I want to be
A galaxy,
A hundred billion stars in me.
The average throngs of people are
Content with dreams to be a star.
But heavens no,
That’s not for me.
I want to be
A galaxy.
As spiral arms twist gracefully,
I’ll tend the stellar nursery,
And oversee the grand events
That nurture heavy elements,
Then everything you feel and see
Is custom made
For you
By me,
Your living,
Loving
Galaxy.
.
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2 comments:
I wondered if that was you, just to the right of Cassiopeia, a faint cotton ball to my naked eye, barely brighter in my binoculars, called Andromeda by some, and numbered by a cruncher as M-31. :-)
Yes! That was me! *giggle*
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