From Ground Control to the Universe

Kyu Kyu Thein

I think about how unforgiving space is.

How we give her so much

and she proves again and again

of how cold-hearted she is.

 

She tells us nothing about herself.

Her past, her present, her future,

everything we know about her

is what we find out on our own.

 

And when she finally gets back to us,

it’s a little too late.

A hundred light years

have already passed us by.

 

The lives we have lost,

the dreams she has stolen,

the hopes that we had,

like she could care any less.

 

And yet, for some reason,

we still find ourselves

launching another rocket

into the atmosphere.

 

Because through all the mixed signals

she leaves for us in the stars,

maybe she just wants someone

to finally understand her.

To make sense of her nebula nonsense,

to feel her cold arms and let her hug them,

to come into her atmosphere and stay this time.

 

But how will we ever know

what she really wants?

Nature has not been kind enough

to grant her the same language as humans.

 

As we stare out into the night sky,

I wonder if she stares back

and searches for any sign

that she’s truly not alone.