That gas giant deviates from its orbit,
Once or twice in an hour or a minute
On Earth, relatively, only the gas giants,
Or perhaps the failed stars knew.
Once, it has its secret orbit, that none in the universe saw,
It hopes, ponders, “Are we all the Roman Gods?”
“No, am I Jupiter? And that distant star from my sky, who is she?”
“Terra? Is it her name?” (I closed my eyes, no, I avoided any sight of light)
Though nothing is present, it’s true.
Just energies—fusion, fission, the emitted temperature.
Nothing in it where the electromagnetic waves can touch, and radiate,
To brandish its beauty and fright of fate.
It kept on deviating. The revolution to rectilinear motion.
Once, passed through the asteroids, the feeling of attraction intensified.
If it retreats, it expands. Scared it rips, it persisted.
Compression, condensation, suddenly it found itself beneath ambitions.
Liquid. Vast. Cold.
Flowing from the polar to the equator.
Sometimes, it crashes against the roughness of rocks.
Sometimes, it dives and glides through the sand
Once, it saw a different one; he jumped into god. (I closed my eyes and tried to catch him)
Suddenly, a whirlpool of emotions left it dazzled.
He cannot let him die, it thought. (Or I felt)
Suddenly, there was empathy and connection.
Another man jumped and there came pitch black.
“Who are you?”, the man asked.
“Are you God?”. It was stunned.
“Are you Terra?”, as clarity is a question to a question.
“You are dead. But I think I died too,” deepening the silence, deafening the two.
Dissociating further, epiphany broke the confusion.
“I died and became the sea,” it murmured
As if it’s been alive for years, it knew how it felt–to be.
“That answers it.” The man, satisfied, then left.
The two brushed troughs before suspending their crests in the air,
not long enough, before the waters meet later
while the man traverses through the icebergs in pairs.
Enlightenment was a literal light when the sun appeared.
A filtered kind of radiation touching it to disappear.
Infrared, visible, ultraviolet, and evaporation.
Water vapor mixed with the Atlantic Ocean’s.
It was a paradox as to what must be told.
It has made clear the path to reasons then lost what the hearts bestowed.
But never mind, because the man came back and said,
“We have yet to live all the lives beyond the world.”
Tales and Renaissance 