HEAVENS

The heavens of my mind
Conscious of that expanse
Are not contained within
Four corners of a park.
Dark matter lulls us
Baryonic fields foil light
Fluctuations open fissures
Fixed fractions coalesce
Colliding, liberating
Glorious colors
In optical wavebands
But a tired mind, like dust
Absorbs and dampens
This spectacular display.
Do we sleep through
Creation in our universe?
Accepting easily what we are fed
Predigested clutter blocking exits
Too much non-sense, more secure
Each day of our place on a bench
Periodically nodding off
In the warmth of summer’s sun.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    March 8, 2007
    Palmares, Costa Rica