We danced together. You don’t remember.
Nor do I.
We are star stuff.
We were boiled and baked and burnt in the belly of a supernova,
Born into the void, flung far from home.
And we danced.
We were vast. We contained multitudes. We were one
Disc of debris dancing in the darkness.
We coalesced a cloud,
Swirled a sphere,
whirled a world.
And on the seventh billionth day of being
Carbon, oxygen, nitrogen and phosphorus, we rested.
We danced. To a song of sugars and acids and proteins
We built ladders twisting and twining,
Scaffolds for life, climbing back to the sky.
Then one moment you were you and I was I.
We never touched. We never danced.
But there was love
Like knowing somehow we had once been
Both part of the same exhaling star,
Drawn together by its breath,
No more than a helpless vapor.
We will dance again someday,
You and I and all the others that love you.
A myriad of years and we will escape our tombs,
Diffuse from from our decaying coffins,
And become calamus and clovers,
Nibbled by lambs and kids
Who gambol away their lives
In a world of green
Round and round in the circle of life
Until Sister Sun grows gravid and ancient red,
Burns the land, boils the sea and engulfs the sky
And everything we are,
Then pulls us into her heart
In a final embrace.
We will dance in her fires till she turns to diamond and ash,
Watch the universe slowly crystallize around us,
And wait to see
What comes after.
I sing the Body, Atomic!
Born so long ago, I have danced to become, just
So I could know you,
— for Julie