With timeless eyes, I watched. A comet. Mile upon mile. An endless expanse of ice. So majestic in the eternal night of space. A glacial mystery on its solitary meandering course through the galaxy. Glinting in the rays of a nearby star.
It barrels along its course. Mysterious, maybe as old as time itself. Streaking out on its merry adventure. Trailing its sea of ice behind like a wedding train, reaching far towards the distant blazing sun.
Tumbling onward, a rolling rock. Surrounded by the veil of its own making. A glinting and impenetrable tail, marking its path throughout the universe. Visible for so many light years around.
Creatures on the systems it passes though invariably notice its passing. Some fear it, feeling its presence like a harbinger of doom in their lives. Others revere it, hold it to be some holy thing. Some merely stand and watch it with wonder. The graceful white line of light shining in the sky. As night turns to day, turns to night, turns to day.
The comet moves onwards, oblivious to the furore it causes. Its purpose is to simply be. Riding its course until the end of all time, or till the day something stops it, whichever is sooner. Glistening, as it passes on its way. A transitory being. Sometimes sharing its lonely quest with temporary neighbours. But mainly, incalculably, majestically alone.
Monday, 7 January 2008
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, 1 January 2008
Marking Time
January 1st. Day One of the Earth calendar, in the year most commonly known as 2008. On the aforementioned planet, new Time is being celebrated, is classed as being born, just as old Time is mourned as it passes away.
There are those marking the transition who will feel like there hasn’t been quite enough Time to really do the celebrating part justice. About the same amount will really wish that Time would get a move on and get to the next stage already, so they can get on with things which they feel are much more important to be spending Time on. Life is finely balanced like that.
For a non-corporeal event, Time certainly does get a lot of attention by those corporeal beings who’s neural pathways are advanced enough to notice it.
Because Time really is a funny thing, when you come to think about it. It’s all relative really. It holds more importance to some atomic-matter-constructs in the grand scheme of things than it does to others.
Take humans for example.
To some, Time is a much watched critical component. The pivot point upon which everything else is balanced, to triumph or to fail on the ticking beat of life. To others it means very little at all. A general marker that says maybe because an astral body is in such-and-such a place, it should be about time to go and eat, or go and sleep, or to even come awake.
To a speck of astral dust, drifting eternally from place to place nothing more than momentum, Time does not even appear to exit. It holds no more relevance than anything else ever would. Won’t affect things one way or another, so therefore it simply doesn’t matter. It’s easy to travel in Time when time no longer matters.
Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.
Universal clock.
Six billion o’clock and all’s well.
There are those marking the transition who will feel like there hasn’t been quite enough Time to really do the celebrating part justice. About the same amount will really wish that Time would get a move on and get to the next stage already, so they can get on with things which they feel are much more important to be spending Time on. Life is finely balanced like that.
For a non-corporeal event, Time certainly does get a lot of attention by those corporeal beings who’s neural pathways are advanced enough to notice it.
Because Time really is a funny thing, when you come to think about it. It’s all relative really. It holds more importance to some atomic-matter-constructs in the grand scheme of things than it does to others.
Take humans for example.
To some, Time is a much watched critical component. The pivot point upon which everything else is balanced, to triumph or to fail on the ticking beat of life. To others it means very little at all. A general marker that says maybe because an astral body is in such-and-such a place, it should be about time to go and eat, or go and sleep, or to even come awake.
To a speck of astral dust, drifting eternally from place to place nothing more than momentum, Time does not even appear to exit. It holds no more relevance than anything else ever would. Won’t affect things one way or another, so therefore it simply doesn’t matter. It’s easy to travel in Time when time no longer matters.
Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.
Universal clock.
Six billion o’clock and all’s well.
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