Galaxy of the Sublime (A Sestina)
Gazing at the stars, the moon, and the clear sky,
I dream for an afterlife that grants me intergalactic freedom.
Whizzing past Saturn’s rings and breathing comet ash,
I would smile and laugh and cry many tears of joy.
Picnicking in Jupiter’s Eye–how lovely to pass the time!
A life like this in the galaxy would forever be sublime.
The Appalachian Trail is an experience so sublime.
I have never seen a hue of blue like the sky.
When one has no cares, there is no time.
To see a world unedited is a profound freedom.
And appreciating the flowers encapsulates all joy.
We end every night with the black campfire ash.
Smoke withers from my cigar’s ash.
I never pictured Cuba to be so sublime.
Piña coladas are now my biggest joy.
With sweet tropical breezes in the sky,
I feel a weightlessness that comes with freedom
And seems to make me lose track of time.
If only there existed chances in time
To travel the universe like wind with ash.
You can find in Cuba even freedom
And live a life sublime.
With a forgiving wind from the sky,
I continue my journey to find more joy.
There is no difficulty in finding joy.
There is no waste of precious time
To sit inside and look at the sky.
Of earthly things, forget the cash,
Of earth things, remember what’s sublime.
Looking at my watch is never a freedom.
Opening a book is like a traveling freedom.
Unfolding worlds of sorrow or joy,
I can relax in a dream of Hawaii sublime
Or dance in the prairies to pass the time.
Before I close the book and return to ash,
I’ll enjoy the Paris evening and gaze at the sky.
What is left to find sublime is searching for the freedom.
To look up towards the sky and remember to enjoy
Before we turn to ash from passing all our time.