Good Morning Starshine

Good Morning Starshine

You twinkle above us
We twinkle below
Lyrics from the musical, Hair, of 1967

They call it the big bang,
the birth of the universe,
when a pinprick of matter
exploded into an infinite array
of stars, strewn as seed
across the vault of heaven.
That great void of nothingness
must have watched with horror
as suddenly it became replete
with creation forced into it,
a momentous disaster
of immeasurable proportions,
tearing the belly of unbeing.
Oh, ill-starred event that portends
all that follows, stars, worlds,
even thee and me and the flower
called aster, a supernova
of colour that echoes the moment
it became possible.
Does the great emptiness
long for its lost supremacy,
that vast silence beyond eternity
when matter was unimaginable
and time was non-existent?

Can it be said to be silence
when there is nothing to hear it?
Is it really emptiness
when it is without containment?
There is more to this
than even Horatio ever dreamed of.


Line Count: 30
Free Verse
For The Daily Poem, July 11 2020