Poetry-Thing Thursday: Our Rise

One day Mars
will be as inhabited
as the earth,
from upon which
we gaze up at the stars.

There we’ll look up,
into a new sky.
Imagine that.
What will we have seen,
when we say good-bye?

And when the universe itself,
fades to black,
what will all of our existence,
have measured to, having begun,
as but a dust-mote on a shelf.

Though it may be,
billions of years
perhaps billions more than that,
will we last?
Or succumb to our fears?

Perhaps we’ll have seen,
or at least dreamed,
of our greatness being sown,
and our species’ rise,
from the blue and green.

This marble unto which,
we once were born:
shall it have been forever our prison?
Or will the cage have we flown,
looking to the stars we adorn?

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Random Chance

Standing stock-still,
necks craned skyward,
to view the awesome power,
of nature’s wrath and fury.

They talk of gods,
of places above and below,
the irony is lost on them,
that this is their beauty.

Earth and sun.
Moon and stars.
How much more miraculous,
or brilliant do you need?

They say there must be a creator,
to bring this from nothingness,
but how profound to think,
that all was once darkness.

And now there is light,
stars and quasars,
supernovae and black holes,
planets, moons, comets, and asteroids,

and a million more things.
Some we’ll never know.
More we’ll never see.
Oh how this is diminished,
by gods and deities.

More importantly, I ask,
doesn’t that cheapen life?
The universe?
Everything?

It’s an eternal question,
one I’ll always ask;
isn’t life grander,
more sacred,
if formed by random chance?

In space,
a cosmic place,
we’ll see stars,
Earthen binds no longer ours.

Colonies,
built to appease,
citizens who’ve been uprooted,
their species’ destiny rerouted.

Breathing air,
made with care,
for each loss is precious,
as the need of life progresses.

Terra-forming.
Planet-Warming.
Such shall become our ways,
science and tech our mainstays.

We’ll harvest suns,
hydrogen tons,
use them to fuel our ships,
and cruise the void for trips.

And then one day,
we’ll have had our way,
and all will fade to black,
us and the ‘verse,
ne’er to look back.