Sometimes, I think maybe the Universe really does exist within a precarious bauble that hangs from the neck of an oblivious housecat’s collar, just like it was portrayed in the movie Men In Black.
It’s kind of fun to think about the Universe in outlandish ways, isn’t it? The truth about the Universe though is probably more like this:
The Universe, a stage
dark and primeval.
Its audience life, absent life.
Its energy, The Source—
of all Consciousness.
At birth, an orchestra
metagalactic music, movement
in harmony, interconnected.
A Nebulae of interstellar clouds,
flaming torches of cosmic dust,
complacent in Its existence
accepting of Its course.
earth Its witness.
It hungers for the words
of a moonstruck poet.
© Interstellar Song :: A Poem
Although we are but the smallest fraction of what Source created as a part of the Universe, we are the most precious. Let’s all pray we decide to live up to the expectation and the potential we’ve been gifted.
We could be a great people, powerful, compassionate and worthy, but we have yet to accept that these qualities exist in all of us. Until we do, we will struggle to hear, and see, and BE the music and lyrics of our own interstellar song.
May the Supreme Poet, our Creator, open our eyes, our ears and our minds to truth today.
Hugs from the Heart,