there be resting skies

the red giant’s dance 

spins a white dwarf trance.

every eighty-odd years 

before October, 

it goes supernova.

naked eye witness in tow,

blaze star’s spectrum rainbows.

some things fly.

birds— bees— galaxies—

on slow sweet melody.

the two bound together 

hum with the other fifty-one,

expand, from simple to complex

in our local supercluster. 

glance the dawn of a sun-like star,

a triple cosmic geode locks orbit.

here the binary universe forfeits,

ripples, blusters, and surfs 

on gravitational waves.

observe nova T. Coronae Borealis.

a tidal disruption time shaves,

my future self manifests

upon my present self.

commands, stay in hand.

hold the seven stars falling

through elephant trunks.

what crowns never land?

grief— mountains— eternity—

what signals within

and oscillate inside me?

consciousness stays, expands

secrets on pulsar winds.

nebulous love evolves to what end?

drawn to the point there be resting skies.

how still the riddle lies.