The dying star has exploded,
The Nebula, again;
The reign of chaos,
Living is a labour,
An unarmed battle,
The annihilation is yawning;
The déjà vu.
Last time the nebula had
Given birth to a star,
Death mothered life,
A luminous marvel,
A wondrous paradox.
I witness the birth of death,
As life refuses to breath its last
afore the picture of stellar nursery
I wish to be where I am not
The cheerful quiver of the
Twig the bird has just left,
A soothing surge raised from
A seething stillness within;
The sonorous resonance.
I am where I am not, the
Spirit on a spirited voyage
Searching the uncertain
Destination of the bird.
I wish to dwell where I don’t,
I wish to continue being
Where I am not.
***