May
2
Beneath the grass outside my door
Lie layers of earth, rock, and water
Some may examine it and
See centuries of history
Past weather patterns
And remnants of species that
Roamed these parts so long ago
But I see only dirt
Above my head
Through layers of smog and atmosphere
And light years of nothing
Some might see the
Beautiful ballet of expanding matter
Helium from hydrogen in orbital decay
But I see only light
Upon close inspection
You may be seen as bone and flesh
A finely integrated machine of
Blood and muscle and brain
Tightly bound by epidermis
And fueled by autonomic interaction
But I don’t see any of those things
I see only hope
