GloMag GloMagMay2020 | Page 391

She became a cloud Hoping to congeal around A central object, a drop, a zygote The shape of a pear, glowing red Gradually becoming harder Inside the translucent wrapping; But she felt no substance Empty… the sky empty… the sac empty. She became the sky To draw a ray of light into her That would swell, sparkle, but not burst She felt a space Huge, dark, curved and countless stars. May be this month There will be a moon Gigantic, round, heavy, vibrating. 391