Aphelion

She is turning the galaxial mirror,

Her ethereal touch magically

Generating stars from nothingness.

She strips the sheer fabric of time

And drapes it across cosmic

Space, making a map of

The wormholes for me.

As I peer out through

The invisible door, I see

The planetary alignment

Perfected, making clockwork

Motions that cannot

Be rewound

By human hands.

Yet, turning inwardly, I

Speak to the breath

That rises and falls, infinitely,

And I know now from whence

This universe has 

emerged.

Reviews

[Lover Of Words]

This is quite a beautiful piece

[Eric Pudalov]

Thank you! It had an almost random inspiration...I was cleaning the apartment, and I thought, "Is there a way to write about cleaning?" My wife suggested, "How about something like 'rearranging the universe?' And this poem came out of that. Glad you like it!

[Lover Of Words]

Well way to go to your wife for helping you write such a beautiful piece

[Eric Pudalov]

Yes, I told her! She said she's better at being the "muse" sometimes than executing the art piece. Do you have a "muse" too?

[Lover Of Words]

Yes i do have a muse

[Eric Pudalov]

I'm glad - that seems like an important motivator. Have a wonderful day, OK?

[Lover Of Words]

You Too Eric