sightless supernova

i pridefully say that 

i am a poet as much as i am a scientist

i doubt therefore i think

i think therefore i am

myths and mathematics are intertwined

the moon’s calendar written by indigenous intuition

only later approved by westen calculation 

the two tend to stubbornly agree eventually 

galeleio’s heliocentric model 

gutted humanity's ego

there is nothing left to do here 

but orbit and observe

perhaps stare at the stars…

science lends us sight

simply squint

through the telescope’s lens

penetrate heaven's gate

identify flecks of light

quantify their orbit

predict their death 

down to the decimal

calculate it faster than 

the speed of light

you are no god,

 but an observer 

convinced by a kaleidoscope

how about a closer look?

expose a miniature solar system

squint your eyes once more into focus

under the microscope’s magnification

the nucleus gently glows neon green

probed with ethidium bromide

fluorescent bulbs that blink blink blink 

as if to mock all other beauty that goes unstimulated 

unperceivable by the naked eye

pulsing with the intelligence

wound intricately inside each of us   

as above, so below 

i have to put my glasses on now

before i can properly see stars 

though the astigmatism in my eyes

when i am blinded by their absence  

make their light stretch even wider 

into a sightless supernova

i soak in the strain of my retinas

bask in the beauty of my blindness

i feel i see them best this way  

the stars whisper secrets 

only to be heard in the dark 

they glow an iridescent 

truth written in metaphors

a light not captured by measurement

but mirrored in verse