Going to space and then returning home, described as nothing any better than earth.
In the beginning of the galaxy,
reality follows up in a different world.
The atmosphere is warmer and much less curled.
Gravitation at the center
is the sole printer
of each and every star.
Floating towards the columns,
the function of different cells,
depicts the source that tells
of a brighter place not in space.
The earth is a different art
that is drawn apart,
by the creation of time.
Corner to corner
and line by line,
with a gesture made in rhyme.
Solid earth and its fruits,
having long built in roots,
extending to the center of nothingness,
where the only thing that can be seen
is a black hole of darkness.
Rising to the great big blue,
what an atmosphere,
who had a clue?
Breathless and speechless on ascent,
the experience has left a permanent imprint.
So many miles in so little time,
faster and faster making the climb.
Gravity returns to all things.
No more need for invisible wings.
Whither to go,
and whither to roam.
There is nothing any better
than an earthly home.
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
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