Standing out in front of me,
The halo hangs over the morning light
Soapy drops leave the center of the eye
The breeze flings them into flight.
Round prisms glistening,
Flinging them high into the morning sky
Each on a journey,
No direction in mind as they drift and fly.
Are we ourselves in a bubble?
Sailing through the cosmos
Just an intergalactic image in someone's Hubble?
Created by a whiff and shaped,
By what we just don't understand
How far will humankind go?
Long after the light ejects and expands.
I gently blow,
My worldly created universe is underway.
Drifting Far from these eyes,
Not from the imagination of this day.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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