I watched the sun rise this morning and I was wondering if you were standing next to me watching it too?
Or were you viewing the earth from a distance, watching it slowly twirl like a tiny Christmas ornament nestled within the fabric of space, falling gently around the sun?
Did you dance on the moon, skip gleefully across the surface of Mars, peer beneath the clouds above Jupiter and bathe playfully in the rings of Saturn?
Did you hear a cacophony of galactic noises and sounds resonating like a sweet and soft melodious jingle?
Did you sing a new song that roared like the thunder of a thousand colliding asteroids?
Did you become huge, vast and so immeasurable you could hold the planets of our solar system in the palm of your hand?
Did you clap your hands and, through its immense energy, give birth to a brand new sun?
And with a swath of your fingers, did you gently caress the stars of the Milky Way?
Did you take wing and screech across the heavens and the universe ten thousand times faster than a photon, weaving in, out and through an infinite array of galaxies, engulfing and consuming them all in an instant with the fullness and completeness of your being?
Did you transcend space and time? Can you contemplate all things in a single thought? Is there life on other planets? Will we meet again?
This morning I watched the sun rise, all the while trying to fathom a world without you in it. I was wondering if you were standing next to me watching it too?
Hycel B. Taylor III