Birth is a turbulent act
in nebula Orion
from massive clouds that lie in
the Hunter's luminous tract.
Sidereal creation
is from his belt unfolding
inside the sword it's holding
within the constellation.
Travails of parturition
can only be conjectured
as skies are architectured
in spatial disposition.
The astral nursery's just
fifteen hundred light-years far
from where earthly beings are
with stargazer wanderlust.
In our arm of Milky Way
this spectacle can be found
plus infant orbs all around
in radiant stellar play.
What we see is a montage
of telescopic gleanings
with astronomic meanings
from Hubble's cosmic collage.
These images were laid on
a vast celestial array
to beauteous scene portray—
such stuff as dreams are made on…
All that's born is bound to die
in cycles never-ending;
though death may be impending,
new stars will twinkle on high.
Nicely presented. Celestial nursery where new stars are born. A poetic masterpiece. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a truthful poem of life after death? it must be true because it's written in the stars! .........written brilliantly
Ah, so, 'written in the stars'... love your wordplay... and thank you, Tom!