by Salman Zafar
Hello Occupants
Of this interplanetary mish mash
Once I wanted to stay
And live within proximity of the milky way
But your air is cursed
The water is worse
I know I won’t make it past a single day
I have come close
So many times before
And Images of me you have seen
With your machines
But capture I have evaded
I only live in your movies and magazines
There are galaxies between us
And millions of years that keep us apart
But the more I observe you
The more I know
That we can never be counterparts
Contact may be established still
Since I am not the first nor the last
To explore what lies beyond my own sphere
You can work on your iron toys all you wish
When it happens you will be found completely unaware
You offer nothing of value
Nothing of substance
Nothing worthwhile that we understand
In this interstellar macrocosm
You are just an insignificant speck of sand
Yet the stories you tell
And the tales you weave
That so many of your kind believe
Brush portraits of your omnipotence
Of science, of travel and the mind
Of one step for man and one leap for mankind
The arrogance you espouse
The grandeur you live and breathe
They are only temporary
Momentary bouts of galactic naivety
For When our worlds eventually collide
You know, as well and I
Remnants of you will be buried in our museums of history
Salman Zafar is a writer based in British Columbia, Canada. @SalmanZafar1985 on Twitter & salmanzafarblog.wordpress.com.
