This sea brims with galaxies in ecstatic destructive union.
How does its bed hold supermassive black holes,
active nuclei with their jets, voids where nothing goes?
It must be governed by love, the field unploughed by science,
the one way we know to make new intelligences.
Love’s from the writhing sea, shines from its restless heart.
Each star is only plankton, plumply spinning round,
and the deep spaces spill over in benthic spasm.
Come, let us take our rest beside the burgeoning fullness,
surrender to everything titanic, cling to innocence
the way we’ve been created. Superclusters
are sweet, spilling out fragrant relic essence.
When the vacuum surf burns out will I see
ten million trillion dawns bed down in your bones.
Richard Magahiz tries to live an ordered life in harmony with all things natural and created but one that follows unexpected paths. He wrangles computers as a day job but imagines a time when life might center around other things. His work has appeared at Star*Line, Dreams and Nightmares, Sein und Werden, Call Me [Brackets], Bewildering Stories, and Contemporary Haibun Review. His website is at zeroatthebone.us.