As I whirl around, the starts seems stationary:
A sea of fixed shimmering points of light.
But time wheels the lights around,
And it's me that's stationary,
Fixed to my own point, flung wildly about,
Staring out through the void in which we all hurtle,
Smiling at every hopeful shining point,
Lost in a Universe with no up or down,
A winding thread in the fabric of time and space,
Relationship like explosions, when viewed in Eternal Time,
Images superimposed, a kiss like a collision,
Holding hands like a chemical reaction,
Threads becoming tangled together,
That can never again come apart.
 
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