Dark Matter

To Source and all beyond,

As Source has Source,

Unbound by time or speed of light.

What is my place in this abyss?

Of black holes and dark matter

Wrapping the galactic plane

Like a mother’s blanket for a babe?

 

What is within me expands and contracts,

Pushing away astral travelers and dodging debris

Floating by from past voyages

And cast away by Jupiter and

Left unanchored to each cell in my being,

Where pain begets pain

From collisions in comets’ midst.

 

Is Soul dark and dank, like

Empty space, a vacuum sucking

Life from kindred spirit?

Or is Dark Matter a coat

Woven for me to wear

In all time and ages

for many life ways under the stars?

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: Hubble Space screenshot   https://www.google.com/search

screenshot

 

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