If there is a road through all of these stars,
And what seems glow and beckon really is,
Then journeying there can only be a blink and blip on someone's radar screen,
When the little movement that is us displaces calm,
Deep within some Nebula,
Replacing void with ripple, and wrinkle in Time.
There will be this errant bee, carrying us, and we, the
Honey of Life, bringing sweetness
to some
Distant Flower, and the various
Lives,
Lit upon its Petals.
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