Tracing the Light

This is a deep well of mist.

Stars gather,

Like scattered sand

To form a nebula.

Clouds gush

Out from the squeezing night:

In its ink-blue shell,

Is holding the unmelted denseness of chroma.

Everything never stops spinning and I never meet,

At the other end of time,

Our light cones will converge again.

It will be a fresh world where I can never trace:

——Weaving the details of life in every corner,

As if to answer all questions flowed through its eras.

The stars stretch to chaos.

Until tomorrow,

Shining the dust

Left by the universe before billions of years.