Smidgens
We point our radio telescopes
Up into the heavens
Poking our ears into
The mufflers of galaxies
Hoping to find rhythm….of
The thumping imperceptible
Voodoo chant of God or
At least a steamy pagan planet
With a crack of ice gone liquid
A mosquito caught in flight
The scraping of a single cell
Are the days gone?….When
We used to look at the stars
Arranging light to fit our myths
Pulling them down to Earth
Making them into shapes
Improvising our reality…to fit
A romantic stroll under
Millions and billions of years
Funny,,,,,The word year
Is so damn human of us
Has always made me wonder
Who is shaping who?
No,
Sounds aren’t the only player.
We still watch
With screen and computation
At the gravitational tug
Between sun and satellite.
Rules are applied
We build theories, myths
Pulling the dance down to Earth
Hoping to find a solar system
Between creation and apocalypse
Where Zeus still throws lightning
Bolts with no worries attached
So, that we can continue
To shape the universe…and
Preserve our romantic stroll
Through the light years
we may see different faces as our minds go to different places , but the voices that we hear
come from the stroll thru the night air
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LIked this a great deal, particularly your notion that as humans we are ‘Arranging light to fit our myths… Pulling them down to Earth’
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I love it
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Pingback: Through The Light Years – clearancerose
Great poem 🙂
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Thanks Angana
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You have been nominated for the VERSATILE BLOGGER AWARD.. Congrats!
Go on: https://langanachatterjeel.wordpress.com/awards/ to acknowledge this, and smile. 🙂
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Reblogged this on wwwpalfitness.
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I received your e-mail and will e-mail you back before the deadline
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Elan, I have sent two gmails to the address you provided elanmudrow@gmail.com but I am getting no response. Is this the correct address? If you have decided not to participate please let me know. Thanks so much.
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I`m loving this poem. The lines “Hoping to find a solar system Between creation and apocalypse”
really speak to me.
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Yes, the chirp. Also the book Contact. And a couple of documentaries I’ve seen about astrophysicists searching for Earth-like planets by measuring how much gravitational pull they have on their sun.
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I love this. Were you thinking of the “chirp” scientists believe they heard in far away space? As long as there are poets (which will last as long as there is time) all the mysteries of space will live in myth and in science.
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OK
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So true.
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Lovely poem. 🙂
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wow :0 🙂
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Oh great, I will email you. Thanks so much.
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Certainly, I would be glad to post a poem on the 30th. You can reach me (or anyone) at elanmudrow@gmail.com
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Elan, Is there someplace I could send you a message? Or could you read this link and let me know if you would be interested in posting a poem on the 30th along with us. Thank You!
http://wp.me/p1sLHR-xK
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I like the term “playful guessing” Thanks Joan
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Ahh, Whitman. My hero. (Or at least one of them)
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Playful guessing is almost better than knowing. Or definitely better than knowing. Great piece, Elan, loved the pic too. 🙂
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“…looked up in perfect wonder at the stars.” -Walt Whitman
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Very well. I didn’t like Satanic Verses and still had to read the thing, but I know someone who gets to wear what they want that does!
*Elan Mudrow*
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great piece of writing…
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I was pulled into this poem immediately and my interest never waned. Delightful and entertaining. My favorite line is “Arranging light to fit our myths”. So true of so much.
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Beautiful and haunting.
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I am not into this but I know that someone else does like this
*Taelynn Davis*
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Its beautiful😊
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