by Paul Hooker
The sounds of Comet 67P,
Recorded by the Rosetta spacecraft, November 2014.
Is this how it sounds when God sings
in the dew moist before time’s first morning,
in the interstices of molecules and galaxies,
melody etched in ice and dust
rhythm pulsing among the planets,
echoing in eternity,
as though the universe
was a cavernous old concert hall,
and you and I the only audience
slumped low in velvet cushioned seats
that smell of hairspray and old cologne
in the back row of the second balcony
in the shadow-dark,
so as not to be found and ushered out
for having snuck in through the stage door
left unlocked by mistake, while we watch
the spotlight far below and listen
to the dress rehearsal of Creation?
Beautiful! I especially enjoyed hearing you recite it at our dinner table tonight!