‘Cosmorama’ by Kemar Cummings The Society December 12, 2013 Beauty, Poetry 1 Comment Beyond the skies is universal eternity. Nebulous ghosts of dust float around In the black hole of space. A night profound As death itself, as life in its old infancy, Contains a trillion grains of stars inside a galaxy Where suns (beyond the reach of sight or sound) Flare as comets streak fire in their earthbound Career. Their lightnings flash out of cold infinity. Bound by deep azure Atlantic waves, The tropical beach, Everest’s cloud-snowed peak And the green plains of grass that richly grow, This world where the play of silver streams laves Cliffs is one with the cosmic dark mystique That binds the universe in its lunar glow. Kemar Cummings is a poet living in Australia. Featured Image: Mystic Mountain, a star-forming region inside the Carina Nebula (Hubble) Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) One Response Ira "Dweeb" Scule December 18, 2013 The Mystic Mountain The Mystic Mountain, a star-forming region in Carina Nebula, a Hubble-capture pic, looks like a strange Doctor Seuss creature reaching in the cookie jar, past star and cosmic cloud, slick sneak. It is bizarre, but part of our universe, the dust and gases rising, climbing thin and thick, its tall three-light-year pillar being worn for worse by radiation of each nearby stellar force. It’s like a giant bean stalk planted from Jack’s purse, that grOws and gROWs and GROWS, though no one knows its course, onward, outward, continuing its burgeoning, a deconstructed, discombobulated horse in orange, violet, and brown, touched golden, white and pink, that’s galloping across th’ eternal plains of space. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.