Driftwood

Sometimes I just like to drift. Riding along on the eddies and tides of life. Feeling the ripples of time and space and life and death between now and all eternity. Letting them wash over me.

Carrying me ever onward.

From the excitement and majesty of a newborn star. Gathering its sparkling mists of dusts around itself, to create itself, to become a new thing. Breathing life into a construct of micro-cosmic dust. A future sparkling in a minds eye.

Drifting on again.

To the dwindling, ending moments of a stars existence. Cooling, collapsing, irrevocably counting down towards its death. Waiting patiently for the final reckoning. The powerful, all consuming explosive splendour at the end of all things.

I let the currents take me.

To the pain and grief of a doomed species, drawing in its final gasping breaths. Its shattered world too stripped of its own natural resources to continue the sustainability of life. I weep.

The tide is unceasing.

Watching the awe inspiring moment, as a budding organism, in its all untainted infancy, takes its initial, future defining breath. Growing life where once there was none. Starting a cycle that can spiral into eternity, or be crushed to nothingness in a moment. Who can tell.

I feel the stellar waves wash over me.

Hearing their whispers as they tell me of the things so few ever see. The secrets of the void and the light and the dark. There is always life, if you know where to look.