Zodiacal light, the kind that takes millions of years to come
What revelations will it share, which are already so old?
The edge of the universe, the boundary of creation
Pulsing with the same power that once beget it all.
How can it be, when a billion are swirled into one,
And a billion more circle each other ad infinitum,
That I can think myself the paragon of creation?
But a billion billion voices still seem to cry out with one voice,
To letting me know how small and insignificant I truly am
And at the same time, so very rare and precious.
But more than this, how very much I am not alone.