Free verse № 6953
Letter to the Horsehead Nebula
I've noticed, lately, how my eyes open
when I first wake up in the morning:
light hits them like a gunshot,
for a moment I'm unable to breathe.
I'm stunned into submission
by the mere fact of my life,
the mere fact that I continue to live.
And afterward, when I step outside
to get the paper, I'm floored by
the first rush of humid air into my lungs.
This is what it is to be alive.
Everything is a miracle. The stars
have been counted, have fallen
into their correct order.
At night I stand outside staring
at the sky, distant planets and suns,
awed by the vast expanse of the universe
in which I am the source of no
gravitational pull, no light,
in which I am of no importance
except for the truth of my name.
3 comments
one could also say, that "i woke and could not believe i was still alive / i wished so much that i could die/ im stunned at the pain that the world is filled with / what kind of meaning can one find in this life......and afterward, when is tep out to get the paper/ i am overcome by the futility of it all/ gowing through the motions/ i feel the sharp air stabbing my lungs, look somebody just died/ this is what it is to be alive / everything is a mistake the stars / are mocking me with their happiness/ how can they enjoy being lonely/ at night i stand outside staring/ at the sky, distant planets and suns/stunned by the vast expanse of the universe/ in which i am the source of nothing/ nothing good, nothing evil/ i am nothing and am of no importance/ not even my name will be remembered
just throwing that out there
-megan
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