For The Sunday Muse prompt, Night Sky
The starlight sprinkled
like tiny slivers of silver
splashed against a dark canvas
peels back the curtain
on a tumultuous past-
birth, death, dust clouds swirling,
mists of primordial molecules
accreting, then Becoming –
a message to the future from the past
echoing down the aeons like a strummed string.
I was here before you were; before
your father was, and his father’s father too
Now you see me as I was. Ponder.