Primal stars were simple things
Great pompous boring fiery kings.
They ruled and died so long ago
Blown to dust, kaput…
That pyrrhic dust, it whirled back so
And formed the stars we love and know.
Brightly stuffed with gold they glow
Free-serving all this life below.
And when our stars go BANG again
They’ll shine anew somewhere… somewhen.
I’ll be a glont’ar-bu-va’af then
Or maybe just a kitty.
Or any old thing… or thing that’s new…
If you will be one with me.
Time may weave or burp or bend,
In truth, we have no earthly ken.
Wondrous suns warm wondrous ones
Each now and every then.