Another Day

Beyond this cold rain, beyond this urban complex,
Beyond our sun, there is indifferent space.
It, too, is aging.  It, too, is breathing in its own way,
Expanding its wonder-filled self to fill the surrounding space, for
Space itself is held by other space, larger and more immense,
But kin.  

I take comfort in this belief:
That beyond this cold rain, beyond this urban complex,
There is breathing space, living its own curious life,
Indifferent, lacking a nervous system, lacking
Even knowledge of itself,
Lacking the capacity to conceive of capacity,
Indifferent.  

Yet, it is my kin.
This indifferent space beyond our sun is my kin, and
So is its cousin space which lives and breathes
Between this earth and the space beyond our sun—
Living, and
Now, with this thought held in this consciousness
In this cold rain
I, too, am their kin.  

--January 15, 2015