Cosmology

The Space Time Poetry Continuum

We write of the mundane, and seek meaning within it. We write of love - found, misplaced, forever lost or sometimes simply misunderstood. We write of hope or despair, or merely sheer puzzlement at the world around us and the people within it.

And every now and then I look up and out into the night, and I am reminded of how unutterably vast the cosmos really is, even as everything I see falls through my eyes and enters into me and translates itself as Poetry to be stored away as if, in some absurd sense, I can hold it all.

The Moon, Venus and Distant Suns - the view from Brushgrove at Dusk

Cosmology

Planets circling perfect suns - those
hot spheres holding the centre still,
digging deep gravity wells
for light itself to bend around
like a billiards trick shot
called into being, pulled
to the only path it can be
in a galaxy lulled by the
familiarity of the miraculous.

This black felt surface
culled from four dimensions -
length breadth depth and time -
all the warped walls of space
and my poem 
the unacknowledged fifth,
holding the whole thing
encompassed in 
one skull full.

Like a black hole hidden, 
hull down in wait,
hauling in everything -
rocks dust gas and light -
falling inward beyond
the event horizon of the eye
to a point where space
folds in upon itself
rolled up and stripped back.
 
The singularity from which
no thing escapes not even 
thought - where the cities 
of the will collapse; where 
dream is rendered down
and the self sits
itself like a sun
in a dark place,
wondering.

Yin and Yang. A stone I found on the beach, pictured where it sat.

Eucalypt Leaf. Fallen. Transient. Perfect.

Afterword:

Yes - I do love a little Physics with my Meta. The way Space and Time are inextricably linked. The fact that Gravity - the weakest of the four fundamental forces in Physics - can nevertheless bend light and distort Space and Time. The mystery of what really happens in a Black Hole when matter and energy are sucked in beyond the event horizon, never to be seen again (Hawking Radiation aside).

And then, that other great mystery. What is this “Self” somewhere deep within us, below the level of conscious thought…. watching, receiving, processing…..