The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean. On this shore we’ve learned most of what we know. Recently, we’ve waded a little way out, maybe ankle-deep, and the water seems inviting. Some part of our being knows this is where we came from. We long to return. And we can’t, because the cosmos is also within us. We’re "made" of star stuff. We are a way that the cosmos can know itself. The journey for each of us begins here. We’re going to explore the cosmos in a ship of the imagination, unfettered by ordinary limits on speed and size, drawn by the music of cosmic harmonies. It can take us anywhere in space and time. Perfect as a snowflake, organic as a dandelion seed. It will carry us to worlds of dreams and worlds of facts. Come with me.

- Carl Sagan, Universal Mind





The Experience

A host of white gulls I saw wing towards the sun, a flock without end so it seemed
Shrill cries beckoned to the birth of the dawn, an omen of some merit I deemed

Their wings brushed the trees so shallow their flight, a formation of unfathomed will
Effortlessly gliding as they flew from my sight. Perhaps they remaining aloft still

An old battered hawk perched on a roof next to me, so close we shared the same breath
He watched as I worked, one eye closed curiously, someone said he was waiting for death

I Returned to my task, when I looked up he was gone, to seek for his maker I thought
But no, there he was. Circling, hunting, and swooping. Still plenty of life in his heart.

A butterfly I beheld in a soft violet set, a vision so lovely in gold
Fluttering so near, so lovely a spirit, a harmony my heart yearned to hold

I reached out my hand, I beckoned with words, and tho she didn't fly quickly away
She went on with her journey, my request was not heard, her spirit unable to sway

Life gives us answers, omens and signs. If we listen with our hearts we will hear.
Sometimes they are clouded not easy to find, and sometimes abundantly clear.

This journey is wondrous, so savor each step. The experience a heavenly gift.
Let ill deeds be forgiven, hard times wash away. For tomorrow the dark clouds will lift.

James J Travers



Prose

Where ever applicable, all rights reserved to the authors.


Guest Prose page 2
PAGE 1
PAGE 2
PAGE 3
PAGE 4
PAGE 5
PAGE 6
PAGE 7
TAKE ME TO SANCTUARY
RETURN TO THE DEN

FIRST STAR MAIN INDEX MAIN INDEX