Most haven’t a clue what to do here on Earth to fix our gargantuan plights… Still Dwarf Planet Pluto in Kuiper Belt ring, in that most amazing of flights, has been closely surveyed, contemplated, perceived, scrutinized, photographed, (not to mention its moons), long after discoverer Tombaugh departed, though ashes of his were on board the spacecraft in its celebrated flyby …
When reflecting on the nature of mind
Of what wit or wisdom do we dare speak?
For the wind in the sky is all we find,
In a round and round game of hide and seek.
It’s mind over matter, sages surmise;
With power of mind as their driving force
Deductive logicians philosophize
From ‘We think, therefore we are…’ as the source.
We muse; we spin, in dreaming delusion,
Our webs of thought, until nought we behold,
And heady with sense, fall in confusion.
Or is yet the end of the story told?
As our labyrinth journey turns and twists,
We lose our way in miasmas and mists.
editors note: We can, head down, arms tucked, sneak by; or stride through, head up, arms wide. – mh clay
Infinity is what we sense
when musing on the vast immense
with universes yet to mold
in starry heavens still untold
awaiting gazers in suspense.
Astronomers of why and whence
search stelliferous pathways dense,
as dreamers dreamily behold
The great sidereal events
in views the firmament presents
upon the cosmic canvas scrolled
shall neverendingly unfold
for poets of the future tense
Imagine – stars in heaven, lost in time, await unwritten cosmic rhyme. (Another of Harley’s musings awaits on her page; while time allows, read it now.) – mh clay
Seasons pass in life’s procession,
days and nights in swift progression,
granting pleasures with each clime
while future measures out the time…
Stamina I lately lack.
Will it like the tides come back,
or am I reaching earthly end?
What will lie beyond the bend?
All that waxes also wanes.
As old age brings losses, pains,
I’ll ease my way through what remains,
seeking out true wisdom’s gains,
and try to sing like nightingales,
before my mortal being fails…
Sing loud, sing now; while time allows. – mh clay
Why are we matter and not antimatter, or are we the latter and think that we’re not? Brought into contact the one with the other, the two would annihilate right on the spot. Opposites attract— some do— but in this case, it isn’t true; for in that mirror image clash the counterparts destroy their doppelgangers in a flash and thus …
We are star stuff which has taken its destiny into its own hands. – Carl Sagan, Cosmos
Remains of stars adorn the sky
with nebulae aglow on high
in stunning patterns that romance
the wondering stargazer’s glance
or simply senses mystify.
While stellar orbs are born and die,
do heavens strum a lullaby
as all around the cosmos dance
remains of stars?
Might there be heard celestial sigh
when Man seems deaf to wisdom’s cry
and Mother Nature looks askance?
Will humans waken from their trance?
For in our earthly beings lie
remains of stars.
Just complex crumbs, seeking the celestial loaf. (Read another stellar story on Harley’s page, about human place in space; check it out.) – mh clay
Once upon a distant star
way away from where we are
sentient beings from afar
told a tale in their memoir.
Having ruined their own home,
they set out through space to roam
over tides of cosmic foam
leaving their celestial dome
for a new pristine abode
where clear liquid water flowed,
with a built-in ethics code
in this novel episode,
thus to avert disaster
and avarice to master,
seeking harmony vaster
and peace agreements faster.
A star’s luminosity,
or globe’s grandiosity
to aid reciprocity
of living things emerging,
for evolution surging
via natural urging
were some ingredients prime,
plus an agreeable clime,
that served as reason and rhyme
to detect a place in time.
Finding it was quite a feat!
They encountered one replete
with air to breathe, food to eat,
winter chill, and summer heat…
There in the Goldilocks zone,
though some aspects were unknown,
it felt right, that one alone.
All the qualities were shown
to be livable it seemed,
more so than they’d ever dreamed.
Sunshine o’er the landscape beamed.
Rivulets of rainfall streamed.
Neither torrid nor too cold,
not too youngish nor too old,
nights of silver, days of gold,
lit with radiance untold,
lands of plenty, sea to sea,
circumstellar to a T—
this would suit them perfectly.
What a haven it could be!
They might call this planet Earth.
It would prove its precious worth
as a globe devoid of dearth
where they’d have a true rebirth…
So the mortals settled in
with their tribal kith and kin
their adventure to begin,
standing firm through thick and thin.
Did they behave corruptly?
Their story stops abruptly—
unless there’s another end,
which those earthlings later penned,
when they’d waked to comprehend
that their faults they could amend
plus troublesome woes transcend
and enlightened truth befriend…
Well, anyway, let’s pretend!
Note: Goldilocks zone, aka, habitable zone, is a zone around a star having temperatures and other conditions that can support life on planets…
As guideposts in the sky to light the way
the heavens’ stars assist our human sight.
Big Dipper asterism holds its sway
in northern Ursa Major shining bright.
When sets the evening sun on earthly cares,
the darkest nights with stellar beams will glow,
regardless of terrestrial affairs,
in spectacle of grand celestial show.
But time will tell and truth be told at last
once all is reckoned from our mortal lives
what future we’ll create from troubled past
to be recorded in the vast archives.
For constant stars above seem not to mind
the vagaries below of humankind.
Maybe our antics make some blush. That’s why we have red ones, right? – mh clay
Is destiny carved or does instinct win out? What causes a species to thrive or thin out? Are queries and theories the puzzles they seem? Let’s hark to a cuckoo tale spun from a dream. There once was a cuckoo who happened to grow into a rare nestling that needed to know about all the whispers and strange twittered words …
Put away childish things
yet keep the childlike wonder.
Though dreams be rent asunder
our wishes still have wings.
Put away childish speech
but not the constant queries
that question rooted theories
which reason cannot reach.
Put away childish ken,
though artless ways of seeing
in any age of being
will find a poet’s pen.
Put away childish thought
yet not imagination
which sparks our inspiration
beyond what we are taught.
Put away childish things
but follow deepest desires.
Those secret innermost fires
burn brighter as hope sings.
Put away childish whim
yet not delight in playing,
then when the world’s dismaying,
our days won’t seem so grim.
Put away childish fears.
Nonetheless, through thick and thin
hang on to the child within,
the laughter and the tears,
all the livelong years…
Put away childish things.
While our dusty death is nigh,
the utter self shall not die,
and karmic kismet clings.
Put away childish things,
though then in mirror darkly
we face our image starkly,
plus suffer destined slings.
Put away childish pain
yet not sensations tender
for sunset’s golden splendor
or soothing thrum of rain,
therein the simple joys remain…
Nor questing spirit ever lose,
while on the pathway that we choose,
neither from love refrain
which makes a heaven of earth’s domain.
Still, throughout, with faith unshaken,
seek enlightenment to waken,
thus the bliss supreme to gain,
plus not to live and die in vain…
Put away childish things
but hold to yearning youthful
to grasp the learning truthful
which timeless wisdom brings.
Put away childish things,
and embrace the peerless state
of illumined grace innate
wherefrom great fortune springs!
Heed these words, then need not wait to have illumined grace innate. – mh clay