Eira, I made a couple changes as you suggested. See what you make of them. Thanks, Ali. Since I have never been in deep-space, my write may be total nonsense. Now I believe that small particles as well as large bodies collide all the time--but where would that leave my poem? lo.,
Stardust 2nd revision
Hear the singing wind-- Coarse dust rolls in waves across the yard; violent gusts whirl tumbleweeds through horse pens. Their spiny, brittle forms brush against corrugated metal sheds to scrape dented, rusty metal.
Sand is time and time is sand; in the river of eternity, epochs erode granite and all human superficiality, leaving behind dust that’s destined to return to the stars.
Our planet’s shores embody innumerable grains of worn stone; stellar grit, drifting through Cosmos, exceeds Earth’s sand grains in numbers--few will collide with one another, thus attesting to space’s infinity.
I halt to clear my eyes of blowing sand and contemplate how a by-us conceived deity can keep its own vision clear of so much stardust as the entity moves through Cosmos’s endless space. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stardust *** 1st revision (Thank you, delightful Daniel, for your valuable input!)
Hear the singing wind-- Coarse dust rolls in waves across the yard; violent gusts whirl tumbleweeds through horse pens. Their spiny, brittle forms brush against corrugated metal sheds to scrape dented, rusty metal.
Sand is time and time is sand; in the river of eternity, epochs erode granite and all human superficiality, leaving behind dust that’s destined to return to the stars.
Our planet’s shores embody innumerable grains of worn stone, but it’s been said that stellar grit, drifting through Cosmos, exceeds Earth’s sand grains in numbers--yet few specks of stardust will ever collide with one another, thus attesting to space’s infinity.
I halt to wipe grit from my eye and contemplate how a by-us conceived deity can keep its own vision clear of so much stardust as the entity moves through Cosmos’s endless space. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stardust *** Original Version
Listen to the singing wind-- Granular dust rolls in waves across the yard; violent gusts whirl tumbleweeds through the corrals; its spiny, brittle forms brush against corrugated sheds, scrape dented, rusty metal. Sand is time and time is sand; both wear away all superficiality.
One seashore alone amasses innumerable grains; yet stellar grit, drifting through cosmos, exceeds our sand grains in numbers; so it's been said. Yet, few specks of star dust will ever collide with one another, thus attesting to space's infinity.
I halt to wipe a grain from my eye and contemplate how a by us conceived deity can keep its own clear of so much stardust as it moves through Cosmos's endless space.
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~~~~ It is a poem’s absolute perfection that can lead to its imperfection. ~~~~
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