In the Great One's cosmos
There are many galaxies,
                To put it mildly:
A galaxy for every human
Who lives, will live, has lived
                On spaceship Earth.

Let us recast our images:
Of corpses rising from exploded graves
                To braying trumpets;
Heavenly useless choirs
Celebrating the jealous god
                Egomaniacal;

Reincarted souls,
Ever returning, tortured by their sins,
                To the same arena;
Terminated bodies,
Soul-less at death,
                Mouldering in silence.

Let us found a new Order
Of the Cosmic Imagination,
                Lest we forget
The potentiality of the Great One
For cosmic scenarios
                Light-years beyond creeds.

I will wager what soul I have
That the spirits of the beloved
                Are awake and at work
In worlds immensely far;
A whole galaxy being too much
                For their ardent searches.

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