Aurora

Each turbulent intake of air
as meaningfully pointless as the spin of a quark.
Subatomic joys and strong forces,
attractions, seemingly inexplicable, at least for now.
Energy released in the splitting of those bonds.

Destructive plasmas form in the mire.
Red, tannic; veins drenched,
veins forming a structure, a sponge,
like roads, like chaos, or the galaxies in the black.
The vomited nebulae among them,
a cacophony of creation and destruction;
a live set, Shiva’s music lesson.
Waveforms and vibration, passion and elation.

Solar flares cry their way across the chasm.
Electromagnetic interference yearns for the spark.
Quivering, diminishing, the teardrops slim,
leaving only the visceral aurora
above the savage beauty evolving unaware,
it moves, it eats, it kills, it smiles, it loves,
and it appreciates the holy glow
with a reverent stare.