Encircling me, the dark dome,
Knows where I will go.
It charts out the seas of the sky,
And colors the unknown.

The blazing lights that appear through tiny holes,
Are the same lights that guided the ancients.
But now, they are in the palm of my hand,
I use different lights to guide me.

Not the lights of the living stars,
But the glow of cosmic dust.
The negatives of nebulas and supernovas,
Speak of new birth and dead pasts.

Where worlds may live or have died,
The same organic-love we have here.
Those places I touch and see,
That is where the inside of the planetarium takes me.

Contributing Writer

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