ten billion years

The night
gathers our wishes
sent wistful
to shine as billions of hopes
in the black sky,
forming paths of light
from our longings.

What set stars ablaze
set us afire as well,
born, as we were,
in nebula nurseries.

Mother/father stars
draw upward our gaze,
we children
of planets grown full and massive,
dying yet deathless gaseous energy
we were released, transformed.
We have long forgotten
the super nova of numberless explosions,
how we floated on helium
to earth,
settling as electrified dust sparking, fiery
illuminating hope.

Earth, Isn’t This What You Want: a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke

Earth, isn’t this what you want? To arise in us, invisible?

Is it not your dream, to enter us so wholly

there’s nothing left outside us to see?

What, if not transformation

is your deepest purpose? Earth, my love,

I want it too.. Believe me,

no more of your springtimes are needed

to win me over—even one flower

is more than enough. Before I was named

I belonged to you. I see no other law

but yours, and know I can trust

the death you will bring.

See, I live. On what?

Childhood and future are equally present.

Sheer abundance of being

floods my heart.

from the Ninth Duino Elegy