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[PoeticUniverse]

The following is the serious base for responses and also explains what’s behind my avatar

Deriving the Narrative Uni-Versed Poem
Of the Cosmos’ Poetic Universe

All the temporary complexities
From the Eterne must someday fade away,
Namely, our universe with its grandness
Dissolving its greatness into blandness.

In between, the Basis writes a story
That gets lived by the transients within,
As us and all the stars, moons, and planets—
In one book from the Babel Library.

What’s Fundamental has to be partless,
Permanent and e’er remain as itself;
Thus, it can only form temporaries
Upward as rearrangements of itself.

The ‘vacuum’ has to e’er jitter and sing,
This base existent forced as something,
Given the nonexistence of a ‘Nothing’;
If it tries to be zero, it cannot.

At the indefinite quantum level,
Zero must be fuzzy, not definite;
So it can’t be zero, but has to be
As that which is ever up to something.

What’s continuous means a field, naught else,
That waves; ‘Stillness’ is impossible.
A field has a changing value everywhere,
For the ‘vacuum’ e’er has to fluctuate.

The fields overlap and can interact;
So, there is one overall field as All.
It’s the basis of all that is possible—
With another forced default of motion.

From field points moving in their one degree
Quantum field waverings have to result
From their dragging e’er on one another.

As sums of harmonic oscillators,
Fields can only form their elementaries
At stable quanta energy levels;
Other excitation levels don’t persist.

Since the quantum fields are everywhere,
The elementaries as kinks can move
To anyplace in the realms of the fields;
As in a rope, only the quanta move.

At each level of organization
Of temporaries in the universe
New capabilities become available,
And so they take on a life of their own
In addition to what gives rise to them.

The great needle plays, stitches, winds, and paves
As the strands of quantum fields’ webs of waves
That weave the warp, weft, and woof, uni-versed,
Into being’s fabric of Earth’s living braids.

Quantum fields are the fundamental stroke
Whose excitations at harmonics cloak
The field quanta with stability
To persist and obtain mobility.

As letters of the Cosmic alphabet,
The elementary particles beget,
Combining to words to write the story
Of the stars, atoms, cells, and life’s glory.

This is the Poetic Universe.

The weave of the quantum fields as strokes writes
The letters of the elemental bytes—
The alphabet of the standard model,
Atoms then forming the stars’ words whose mights

Merge to form molecules, as the phrases,
On to proteins/cells, as verse sentences,
In to organisms ‘stanza paragraphs,
And to the poem stories of the species.

Of this concordance of literature,
We’re the Cosmos’ poetic adventure,
Sentient poems being unified-verses,
As both the contained and the container.

We are both essence and form, as poems versed,
Ever unveiling this life’s deeper thirsts,
As new riches, through strokes, letters, phonemes,
Words, phrases, and sentences—uni versed.

We have rhythm, reason, rhyme, meter, sense,
Metric, melody, and beauty’s true pense,
Revealed through life’s participation,
From the latent whence into us hence.

From quantum non-locality entanglement,
We know that information’s primary
Over distance, that objects don’t have to
Be near each other to have relation.

Everything connected to everything
Would seem to be a ‘perception’ as an
All-at-onceness, so a particle
Might ‘know’ something about what to do.

Informationally derived meanings
Unify in non-reductive gleanings,
In a relational reality,
Through the semantical life happenings.

This is a realm of happenings, not things,
For ‘things’ don’t remain the same on time’s wings.
What remains through time are processes—
Relations between different systems.

Syntactical information exchange,
Without breaking of the holistic range,
Reveals the epic whole of nature’s poetics,
Within her requisite of ongoing change.

So there’s form before gloried substance,
Relationality before the chance
Of material impressions rising,
Traced in our world from the gestalt’s dance.

All lives in the multi–dimensional spaces
Of basic superpositional traces
Of Possibility, as like the whirl’s
Probable clouds of distributed paces.

What remains unchanged over time are All’s
Properties that find expression, as laws,
Of the conservation of energy,
Momentum, and electric charge—unpaused.

A poem is a truth fleshed in living words,
Which by showing unapprehended proof
Lifts the veil to reveal hidden beauty:
It’s life’s image drawn in eternal truth.

A poem is both the thought and the presence,
An object born from one’s profoundest sense,
An image of diction, feeling, and rhythm;
It’s both the existence and the essence.

Poetry makes clear what’s just barely heard,
For it translates soul-language into words,
Whereas, music plays right on the heartstrings;
Merged, they create song; heart and soul converge.

Poems are renderings of the soul’s spirit,
The highest power of language and wit.
The reader then translates back to spirit;
If the soul responds, then a poem you’ve writ!

…

Oh, those imaginings of what can’t be!
Such as Nought, Stillness, and Permanence,
As well as Apart, Beginning, and End,
The Unfixed Will, Blame, Fame, and Theity.

…

When the universe ends, sparse photons left,
All splendor, life, and objects will have gone
The way that all temporaries must go,
To oblivion—oh, grand complexities!

Only the Eternal Basis remains
As potential for all possible books
In Everything’s Great Repository
To author another universe’s story.

[psyreporter]

Beautiful poem! I will read it again

Not sure if I would agree with the last part about 'the Universe' dying off. Can you explain why 'the Universe' is to be considered a temporary that will go to oblivion? What would be the argumentative foundation for that idea?

When the universe ends, sparse photons left,
All splendor, life, and objects will have gone
The way that all temporaries must go,
To oblivion—oh, grand complexities!

Only the Eternal Basis remains
As potential for all possible books
In Everything’s Great Repository
To author another universe’s story.

'the Universe' (as in totality) may not be of finite nature on a fundamental level, en thus, dying off wouldn't be applicable. The begin that is introduced by pattern recognition (the observing mind) is necessarily the begin of the world itself.

[PoeticUniverse]

Can you explain why 'the Universe' is to be considered a temporary that will go to oblivion? What would be the argumentative foundation for that idea?

It disperses due to its accelerating expansion.

The protons were now gone from the show,
Having decayed so very long ago
Into positrons—ever canceling the electrons,

And emitting the fleeing light of photons,
There being of course an equal amount
Of protons and electrons in the count.

And of course along with all the protons
Went all of the atomic elements—the end,
All of their forms becoming myth and legend,
As they were still dreamt in night dreams,
Those forms that we once had, so it seemed.


The Vault of Everything

A spirit led us onward, who knows how,
Toward the Library of Babel,
Which contains all the possible books
That could ever be written,

Including, for example,
Better and worse Shakespeare plays, brand new plays,
Books with only one word of difference among them,
Everyone’s life story (even the parts not lived yet),

The Secrets of the Universe,
The true Theory of Everything,
A lot of gibberish, and so on, as we can’t imagine.
In fact, I found this story in there,
In a short story book of mine-to-be,
So I just copied it to here. (Yes, it said that too.)

We passed through jungles and over mountains.
The spirits led; we followed.
We even floated above the clouds
And then came back to earth.

A clear night sky of infinite possibility
Showered us with photons,
Lighting our way to the fountain of all knowledge.

“True enlightenment awaits me there,”
I offered to the guiding spirit.

“Don’t be so sure,
Although you might chance upon it,
For the deep truths of enlightenment
Are as needles surrounded and consumed
By the near infinities of the haystacks
Of deception and confusion,
For, remember, Everything exists in this library.”

“It must be a massive building,” I remarked.

“Well, yes, but it’s bigger on the inside
than on the outside;
Otherwise, it would have been larger than the universe.”

“Bigger on the inside? How?”

“Well, you’ll see, but I’m not sure how;
Maybe through some dimensional extensions,
Or perhaps it’s constructed digitally
And expands as you move about, somehow,
To conserve space; but even with compression
It’s still hundreds of miles wide in every direction—
On the inside.”

“What is Everything, in principle?”

“It’s every arrangement possible,
Given whatever constraints there are, if any.
Of course not all paths may be stable,
Sensible, or last very long.”

“That’s a lot. Why do we live on this particular path
That our Universe has taken?”

“Who the heck knows!”

“What about making the forms
Of substance(s) of a Universe?”

“Well, in the case of the emission
Of the secondary substances, let’s say,
It’s every one of the ‘alphabets’
That can be conceived by
The Timeless-Formless-Motionless,
Plus all of its resultant workable combinations
And interactions of substance.
For this Babel library,
It is every possible arrangement
Of words in every language,
With punctuation, too, naturally.”

“Hey, here it is. I can’t wait!”

We looked in, picked a hallway,
And headed towards the stacks.

We saw piles and stacks of books
In every direction, even up and down,
Stretching toward infinity.

“Where’s the card catalog?”

“There can’t be any, for many titles and descriptions
Of similar books are too long to differentiate.
Think of the books themselves as the card catalog.”

“How’s the library organized?”

“It can’t be. It would take forever.”

“Who runs it?”

“Borges is the lone librarian
But he’s somewhere in the back
And hasn’t been seen for decades.”

“OK, I’ll pick some at random.”

(Hours pass)

“Anything?”

“No, mostly mumbo-jumbo, but I found one on a table
That someone must have treasured.”

“Oh, yes, he spent his entire lifetime here.
It’s Plato’s ‘Beyond Metaphysics’.”

“Wow! That’s been lost for thousands of years.
But is it the true version?”

“Who knows.”

“This library contains
No information whatsoever!”

“True, but there’s another library next door
That also claims to have Everything.”

“You mean that little ‘hut’;
No, wait—I get it—
The library next door is empty.”

“Yes, for the All sums to the None.
Both everything and nothing
Have an information content of zero.”

“Wait‚ I found two more good ones
In the stack right near the entrance.”

“One is by you and one is by your friend, Rascal.
You put those there in the first stack
So someone would easily find them
And read them, even though they exist again
Somewhere else in the library.”

“Yes, and I’m even going to let them
Stick out a little on the shelf.”
…

Epilog

…In another chilling Borges’s story
I read the actual book that he refers to,
The one whose infinite pages are ever-changing,
For that’s how books appear to me in night dreams.

Sometimes there are even digits occurring
In the middle of words,
Plus if I look away and then back
Then the contents of the page have changed.

One time, when the page stabilized
To quite understandable words,
I realized I was reading something very profound.
In fact, it was the Ultimate Answer:
Sound, letter, phoneme, word, phrase, sentence, (uni)verse!

I dared not look away
Nor try to copy it with a dream pencil,
But instead tore out the page
And crumbled it into my hand,
Then forced myself awake;
It was a lucid dream.

When I awoke I had the page in my hand, and it said:
This page intentionally left blank,
Except for the above,
And the above, etc.

[JackDaydream]

@PoeticUniverse

This thread appears potentially similar to Gus Lamarch' s thread on the'Metaphysics of Poetry' on TPF a short while ago. I wonder if you are hoping to develop it in that way. I am not sure if this is your intention or to explore ideas about the universe. Perhaps, you are hoping it may develop in tradition of the metaphysical poets, although I don't think you have a similar philosophy to John Donne and the others from that tradition. Perhaps, yoursPoeticUniverse etaphysical poetry.

[JackDaydream]

@PoeticUniverse

I pressed something wrong and it lead my final sentence to get jumbled. It should have read as: Perhaps, your writing is the 'new' metaphysical poetry.

[PoeticUniverse]

or to explore ideas about the universe.

Yes, as always.

[PoeticUniverse]

How I found out about the Uni-Versed Poem:

To the Quantum Depths of the Poetic Universe

From quantum non-locality and entanglement, we know that information is more primary than distance, and that things don’t have to have the appearance of being near each other to be related or to cause an effect.

Everything connected to everything would seem to be a rudimentary ‘perception’ as far as one could be had by that network. The all-at-once connections, as like in a hologram, might seem to provide for for the direction of what goes on in the overall information process. I am thinking like a yogi and a guru, the entire cosmos situated within me.

Quantum non-locality seems to imply that every region of space is in instant and constant contact with every other, perhaps even in time as well, and so the holistic universe is governed by the property of the solitary whole; so that could be the underlying guidance principle. An individual particle might ‘know’ something about what to do, acting according to all the others.

Thus both our connections and the holistic universe’s, each having a singular nature, might be the clue. Perhaps they are of the same basis of connections’ doings, but separate as two manifestations, each pertaining to a different realm, internal and external, our internal connections giving us ‘future’, and the external connections granting ‘future’ to the universe. I don’t know which has the tougher job.

Lee Smolin has it that qualia are intrinsic, as fundamental, and Chalmers has it that information is fundamental and can express itself in two ways, in consciousness and in matter.

Quantum entanglement suggests that each particle has the entire 3-D or 4-D map of the universe, the information ever updated, the universe being as a single entity. While this may not be perception at the level we have, it may help the universe accomplish something of the movements of particles and fields in their energy, mass, and momentum, in some global way that goes forward overall.

This may not seem to be saying a whole lot, in depth, but since the quantum realm is beneath everything then one would surmise that it must have all to do with everything that goes on.

It is still that the apparent atoms and molecules make the happenings, via physical-chemical reactions; however, this observation cannot be equated to an ‘explanation’, for we must wonder what underlies the chemical mattering and reacting that seems to have a unity of direction to it.

I had finished with the yogis and the gurus, and the seers and the oracles only know of the future; so, I surmised, to uncover the deepness of the present, for nature and the conscious animates, I must seek out Nature’s Great Poet in her Uni-verse, in order to fully apprehend the ethereal phantasms of the entangled and enchanted branches in the forest of nature, bringing them into the light.

Fortunately, I was a poet myself, and so I could gain entrance to the elfin dell, as a human, having to first pass through the neophytes, resisting their temptations and spells; however, the sensual can often take a back seat to the intellectual, although the ecstasy can be similar.

I had been there once before, bringing my epic poem, ‘Flora Symbolica’, unto them, and writing up the results in ‘Elfin Legends’, and so they had bid me to return one day on a quest. Theirs was more of an ethereal world, whereas mine was often clunky, except when I dreamt at night, and it was time for me to wander again, to ask about and better understand the quantum guidance principle, especially learning from those closer to nature and the heavens, they being the elven mixture of spirit–angel beings and humans, and thus aware of the causal nexus.

I flew to England, to the special forest Fairy Kingdom, near Gallienne’s old haunts, and waited for the funnel to open up into the tunnel, and then I came out into their realm and walked on for a full day, seeing no one straight out yet, just sideward waverings, but noting many new colors hereto–fore unknown, as there were more waves and frequencies here.

Here the blesséd and haunted old forest,
Whereat the base of an oak I rest,
While all about lay wondrous deep coverts,
And a green-turfed path that leads o’er a crest.

They all knew what I was after, as evidenced in the first encounter.

“To pass and learn of the connectedness of all things, you must kiss me, after which I’ll give you your first clue.”

The kiss vibrated deep within my being, and I felt it to my core, and then she related, “All of life’s entities embrace one another, including cells, organisms, species, and biotope”.

I was on my way again the next morning, the hours having flown by, as when Einstein had sat next to a pretty girl and had noted the much quicker passage of time, over the slower passage of his instant of touching a hot stove.

I learned more as I meandered through the labyrinth of the forest.

She said, “Hold me tight and love me, and I will unveil some of the poetic structure afterward.”

Well, two days went by, and she revealed more of my quest, “Living conscious creatures are as a poem, they ever revealing further dimensions and expressing new properties at every level of organization, via strokes, letters, phonemes, words, phrases, and verse-sentences, in and of a [uni]verse of rhythm, reason, rhyme, meter, metric, and melody. This relates to the quantum All.”

I was hungry for the continuation of life’s quantum poem, and hoped I’d be able to move on more quickly, but her allure was testing my resolve; however, she told me something very soon after we’d rubbed our cheeks together, “Meanings in life are not just discovered or gleaned by mere observation but by understanding through participation, these informationally derived meanings combined to make sense in a non-reductive process, as in the relational reality of life happening at our semantical level of syntactical information exchange, with no breaking of any of the holistic connections, all this as the epic whole of the book of nature.”

It was so still you could hear a nut fall,
And the musical strain of mystic call,
In soft tones flowered upon the silence,
As floating on the surface of the All.

“There is the particle and there is the wave—either one forced on us by our observations, being jointly known as the ‘wavicle’, all three states of which are truly not the actual reality.”

She continued, “The actual reality is quantum fields.”

After two weeks with her, I had to survive the passage through the land of skulls and roses.

…

Finally, I emerged, unscathed, into the Land of Spring, and found out about more about growth.

“There are no objects that are identical with themselves over time, and so the temporal sequence remains open. Nature is a ‘possibility gestalt’, with the world forming anew each moment, from the deeper, enfolded realm, which is a unity in the sense of an indivisible ‘potentiality’ which can realize itself in many possible ways, it not being a strict sum of the partial states.”

‘Twas that time of morn when the exiled rise,
Thrown to time’s Earthly bondage through the skies,
Being for an hour their own Heavenly selves,
Their full glory unhidden by disguise.

“It still appears to us, though, that the world consists of parts that have continued from ‘a moment ago’, and thus retain their identity in time; yet, matter really only appears secondarily, as a congealed potentiality.”

These forest fairies, dryads, nymphs, and fauns,
Ever flash their nude blossoms on the lawns.
They beckon me along, for though the air
I pass thoughts of love, verses, and songs.

“In a stable configuration of matter, such as in the inanimate, all the quantum uncertainties are effectively statistically averaged out, this thus ever being deterministic; but in the case of the statically unstable but dynamically stable configurations the ‘lively’ features of the underlying quantum structure have a chance to surface to the macroscopic level.”

And so they tell more, “Physical phenomena are made of information processors that generate overlappings of correlated multi–dimensional wave fields which are propagating through time, as fields of possibility, whose intensity is a measure of the probability of an object-like realization.”

The life of her face is in her deep blue eyes,
Soft-lipped mouth, and the ears that pointed rise,
As the moon and stars reflect in a pool,
Which look as for a lifetime pours surprise.

“So, there is form before substance, relationality before a materiality that is of a secondary arising and importance, its information being primary. Impressions of realizations are left in our world by the gestalt that ‘lives’ in the multidimensional spaces of quantum superpositional possibility.”

I dive into her eyes, her soulful gate,
And worship before her heart’s flaming grate,
Midst flowers in the gardens of her dreams,
Then whirl back up through her eyes as her mate.

“There are no point masses then, but only smudged particles, such as we know of in the space-filling representations of the distribution of electrons in the shells of atoms—called a ‘cloud’.

“What remains unchanged over time are certain properties that find expression in the laws of conservation of energy, momentum, electrical charge, etc., these necessarily being closer to the basis of all.”

At last, I met the ultimate Poet, the Elfin Queen, who told, “There is a relationship structure that arises not only from the manifold and the complicated interactions of the imagined building blocks of matter, but also one that is substantially more inherent and holistic.”

She continued, “So, then, the weaves, warps, and woofs of the quantum bits as strokes makes for the letters of the elementals, as the alphabet of the standard model, forming the words as the atoms that go on to form the molecules as the phrases, on into cells as verse-sentences, up to the stanza-paragraphs of the organisms, and unto the poem-stories of the species, via the unity of life’s conscious literature as the unified verse in which we live out our poems.”

I’m left with a feeling that’s no mere spell,
But a fact in Heaven that’s fancy in Hell,
Of elemental affinity’s flame,
Deeper than thought, much older than speech can tell.
…

I had discovered The Poetic Universe.

I headed back home, this taking a few months, never stepping into the same universe twice, or even once.
Funny thing, I thought, they didn’t use poems in what they told me, but, then again, they are as living poetic forms themselves.

[psyreporter]

Thanks again for the poem! I am not an expert but I found it to be beautiful!

The concept 'nothing' is interesting. Logically, it can only be of substance relative to an individual due to the fact that the 'begin' of 'the Universe' is introduced by an observing mind. On a fundamental level, a begin would not be possible which gives rise to the idea of infinity.

Can you explain why 'the Universe' is to be considered a temporary that will go to oblivion? What would be the argumentative foundation for that idea?

It disperses due to its accelerating expansion.

That idea is dependent on the 'scientifically queer' assumption of the Big Bang (an exploding primordial atom), a theory that was originally named "Cosmic Egg theory" and that was proposed by a Catholic priest for "a day without a yesterday" in line with the book of Genesis of the Bible.

Many scientists are complaining that the Big Bang theory is a religion.

Albert Einstein originally had an opposing theory for an infinite Universe. All of the sudden, he called his own theory his 'biggest blunder' and started to actively promote the Big Bang theory.

With the realization that his earlier prejudice for an unchanging cosmos was wrong, Einstein embraced the Cosmic Egg theory and removed the cosmological constant from his equations. He called the Cosmic Egg theory the most beautiful creation story that he ever heard.

Einstein: "This is the most beautiful and satisfactory explanation of creation to which I have ever listened," he said, and called his own theory the biggest blunder of his career.

https://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux ... -big-bang/

Mysteriously lost scientific papers by Albert Einstein that were found in Jerusalem in 2013, show that Albert Einstein actively attempted to restore his theory for an infinite Universe in the years after the discoveries made by Edwin Hubble. That could be an indication that something was going on, perhaps ecclesiastical influence.

Getting Einstein to Say "I Was Wrong"
https://physicsbuzz.physicscentral.com/ ... wrong.html

A recent scientific article by Chinese researchers about the alternative theory for red shift, which was available in the time of Albert Einstein, shows that Albert Einstein would not have to have been forced by the Doppler interpretation of Red Shift proposed by Edwin Hubble.

(2018) Tired Light Denies the Big Bang
More and more problems related to Big Bang have been appeared in recent years. All the problems are due to the Doppler interpretation of redshift. The “tired light” theory, proposed in 1929 by Zwicky and most recently developed by Shao in 2013, gives a new explanation for redshift. Problems, such as super velocity, the horizon problem, the cosmological microwave background radiation, and Olbers’ paradox, vanish in the cosmological model of “tired light” theory. The model describes a boundless and timeless Cosmos.
https://www.intechopen.com/books/redefi ... e-big-bang

Scientists are questioning the expansion-theory of the Universe based on empirical evidence as well:

(2021) Physicists questioned the theory of the expansion of the universe
https://www.yallaneqraa.info/2021/04/ph ... rally.html

(2016) Oxford professors: the universe is not expanding at an accelerating rate
https://phys.org/news/2016-10-universe-rateor.html

Evolving into something bigger does not need to imply that 'the Universe' would go into oblivion. If there is meaning involved for 'the Universe' to be possible, then most logical is that that meaning is served beyond the scope of what exists.

[PoeticUniverse]

All of the sudden, he called his own theory his 'biggest blunder' and started to actively promote the Big Bang theory.

Thanks for all the links. I see that the 'blunder' got restored as the proposed dark energy, the fuel that keeps on giving.

[PoeticUniverse]

Here we have the short but good poetic voices in the night sky:

[PoeticUniverse]

More voices in the sky to be heard out in the yard at night:

Worldly Love:
A Love Story of the Earth and the Moon

As the moon, challenge night and gain the light;
As the rose, suffer the thorn—gain the fragrance;
Of life, surrender to live forever—
Enlightened more than a thousand suns.

I am thy moon, thy constant satellite,
Thy crystal paramour of day and night.
Above and below, and within thy sight,
I whirl around you in loving delight.

In a magnetic dance, I whirl and twirl,
Attracted to you, oh liveliest world.
Around you as a necklace I’m aswirl—
Wear me as thy crystalline gem impearled.

Wherever thou orbits ‘round Apollo,
I must twirl and whirl, hurry and follow;
Dust I gather, meteors I swallow,
Ranging far and wide through space not hollow.

Thy romantic beam, as Cupid’s arrow,
Pierces my heart and kills my sorrow,
Injecting life and love for tomorrow;
Henceforth, I’ll shine with this life I borrow.

Around you I whirl, a necklace of pearl,
Trailing afterimages of my world,
Adorning you, thy bosom bountiful,
With crystalline gems of another world.

Oh moon, thy Earth would wobble like a top
With your steadying influence not,
In turns quick of searing and freezing ruins,
Unto dying soon, without you, oh moon!

As twin planets, our orbits must convolve;
Into each our tidal motions dissolve.
Around a common center we revolve—
The focus from which our passions evolve.

As twin planets, each other’s way we pave,
With the push-pulse of the graviton wave.
We’re captured, but not as each other’s slave,
For to the sun our orbits are concave.

To your lines of flux my path I align—
I’m your constant paramour, crystalline.
Your world pours life on mine, on mine!
Dearest Earth, I must be thine, must be thine!

A magnetic beam emanates from thee,
Attracting me, holding me, kissing me.
Tidal love washes freely over me,
Linking you and me for eternity.

Basking warmly in your reflected light,
I’m bright, oh so radiant in your sight!
In the love and light of your spirit bright,
I need not ever face the endless night.

Your vibrations travel without a sound,
Circling from all directions to surround.
This affection touches me ‘round and ‘round,
And closely binds me to you—I’m love-bound!

We’re as different as midnight and noon,
Yet drawn close by the force of Earth and moon;
As lovers we merge, in a sweet eclipse,
When world meets world, as a kiss on our lips.

Oh, as your shadow of love covers me,
I am full, so full in the shade of thee;
When we overlap, that union is us;
The you is in me, the me is in thee!

As moon and Earth we bathe in radiance,
Cleansing our hearts in love’s grand alliance;
Around and around each other we dance,
Entranced by the whirl of our dalliance.

My blood runs warm with the sun’s heat at noon.
My spirit is swept by thee, swelling moon.
Space surrounds us. The tides flow through us.
Global rhythms are always playing our tune.

[PoeticUniverse]

More voices the sky:

https://vimeo.com/570959144

THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES—
MOONLIGHT SONATA

The music of the night was in the breeze,
A prelude borne by the airy musicians
Of the trees: the evening calls of the birds
That opened for the cosmic symphony.

The Music of the Spheres played in the park
That night—flung down by our Father, the Sky,
Through the soft night, to our Mother, the Earth,
Then to us, their audience and progeny.

The planets joined in a concert to the
Merrie Monthe of Maie, arrayed as follows:
There was Venusia, the Bringer of Peace,
Singing side by side with warring Marsius.

Flitting about was the wingéd Mercuria,
The speedy messenger who conducted
The orchestra, melting all of us who
Were touched by her wand of burning desire.

And mighty Zeus, was there, full to the brim
With the jollity of the fat man’s belly.
By Jove, came Saturnus, so very gray
With age, lumbering into the party.

Thence sat Urania—the magician, and
The old sea captain—King Nep, the mystic,
But not Pluto; he was downsized, no more
One of the harmonics—an underworld!

Jupiter’s music was round and robust,
While Saturn’s boomed with sounds of grandeur
And the old venerable melodies;
But Mercury soon picked up the pace.

Next flowed the serene love songs of Venus,
Followed inexorably by Martial marches.
Now was the time for Urania’s magic—
She played musical jokes and surprises.

At last, their music came to mesh as one,
And our wanderers of the night floated
Away on the haunting, mystical strains
Of King Nep’s tune, into the May Flower moon.

Now we’re touched, so touched by the starlight,
Afraid that we’ll ne’er be the same again.
Can you sense the euphony of the spheres?
Can you fathom the theory of everything?

[PoeticUniverse]

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