To Jupiter, Past Mars

The wild spinning I thrust myself into
Threw me into orbit as madly as those that dare stare at the Sun.
I ascended into the atmosphere and stared at all the spheres
That I once dwelt in, that I once knelt aggrievedly before oft.
A star far-flung and diminished, pulled down by gravity
And bound by bonds and terrestrial weights.
But I at long length—at will—propelled myself at my escape velocity,
Up into the celestial realms of light and void,
To Jupiter, past Mars, to the furthest reaches of what is known and unknown.
I spun and accelerated and careered—away from what once was:
The past, the past me, the past world, the history of primordial life.
I grew restless of all of it, grew too old and bold—
A protean child in perpetually unchanging space.
So I created my own orbit, freed myself from the Earth's hold,
And sought my rest out in distant, eternal, cold space.

M.M. — 08-Nov-15