I know, I know, here I go
again, laying on weepy, over-sentimental "Little House On The Prairie" feelings and emotions with a trowel, giving another robot tree-huggy feelings...
THROUGH THE PLUMES…What strange, warm-water wonderland will lie beneath me
as I fly high overhead?
Below me, rushing past – a snow-globe scene,
a fractured, cratered wintry plain of gleaming
ice as hard as stone, criss-crossed with groaning
fissures that open and close like the bone-
dry maws of some fearful buried beasts
that feed on vacuum, and scream in pain
each time they feel Great Saturn’s pull…
Peering down upon the gravity-sculpted ground
I’ll feel a million Terran eyes upon me,
wondering what wonders I will see
when I fly into bright sunlight once again:
miles-high plumes of tinkling, twinkling vapour
shining bright against the endless night
of space? Racing through them might my face feel
the gentle touch of Enceladean dust?
Tomorrow I will know, and as snow falls softly
on the moon below I watch it grow and grow and grow…
© Stuart Atkinson 2008