I can see the blue sky, turning delicately shades of violet and blue;
soon darkness will come,
I can see on the horizon Venus appear, the brightest star ever;
The wished-for, the longed for, by children and lovers the world over
Dusk now will dimple over her shoulder at the night, gather her robes and depart
Leaving her fragrance behind, and Night, quiet, thoughtful and profound
As lofty as a prince in a far legend from the ancient tales, will gift his heart;
Will spread his cloak over the bowl of the sky: a cloak as black as velvet
As black as his eyes and hair; it seems the Day was fair and smiling
They exist in their opposites and they attract abstractedly.
I can see through the branches of a tree the faint glimmering,
the first stars that begin to shine;
What if those flickering lights were lamps lit in so many planets and stars
to guide the Milky Way
The eternal intergalactic roadway that runs through the universe
ever since our notions of time began to exist;
I, the dreamer, am here but for a moment.
The moments stretch onto eternity, composing my existence
But these moments are transient whilst eternity is endless and eternal
Are there alien beings living in those vast cosmic spaces and is it true that they are alien?
Who came first? Me or the alien? Thus we can deduce if the alien is an alien or is it me
Alienating myself and the others and people who don't think and speak like me
Planetary distances give pause; Planetary beings who might be kinder,
better and more beautiful:
Who haven't a word in their language for hatred, war and bigotism
Is it possible within reason
The very thought is almost treason: for aren't we the best of all creation?
Through the silhouette of the tree the stars are now wild and free;
I can see the light of a planet
Sometimes red, blue or white as the case the might be
And that light seems to say "what you see might not be there
I might have been burned to cinders before you were born" now, how do I fit that into
My notions of the four walls of my familiar world?
The star is shining but is not really there. I exist but am I there?
Do the beings on that star who is not there see me as I am or am I not there? Or to be? Was I? Am I? Will I be?
Though even to my dreamer's eyes
my body is planted firmly under the branches of this tree.
Tell me stars, tell me cosmos, tell me Big Bang theories
Tell me within reason,
If on those planets and stars that are, but are not, or will be,
If there exists other poets like me, who are or were or will be
Looking at us through the branches of a tree.