Last Sunday, Jupiter was the star. The planet was closest to Earth than in the last 60 years and I was fortunate enough to get a telescope to see it. No need to tell it has inspired me ever since.
Fear and hope are but visions, the potencial of the subatomic dream If I by foot was to travel instead of sailing the negative space of the circumference Another spot would unravel in the lighthouse that might or might not be the reason There’s always hope for an unfinished past Past to another moon to Jupiter The smallest my field of view, the broader becomes that toxic orb that could Kill me if I Dared To breathe in Just like a god Tighten the lightbringing, magnification, in darkness surround me Wrap the priest in gold and he becomes the god Wrap in words, the man, every thing becomes hope for the long lasting tempest to end The oceans of Europa are withstanding the ice right now: our past and the future of several moonlets. How many atoms can I fit in a 6mm telescope eyepiece? How many particles inside each of them? How many promises of eternal bliss with whom I am and how many fallen angels who dare to ask why? The time when the dark and the light balance I just want deliverance from gravity I’m but a joint of everything that comes from within And all that happens towards me Invisible rings that bond us together, not even yet seen But there’s always hope for an unfinished Past There was an existence before this one There are galaxies older than the play I wrote or the one that strives to write me That could fit a pencil dot from my limited perspective We’re but disposable actions in every frame of the cosmic film If the information that is sent to our eyes is magnified We lose track of distance, time, and the very fabric of reality seems nothing but A bunch of unmastered rumours Another piece of old matters that will form another moon to Jupiter