I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes.
The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever will be. Our feeblest contemplations of the Cosmos stir us — there is a tingling in the spine, a catch in the voice, a faint sensation, as if a distant memory, of falling from a height. We know we are approaching the greatest of mysteries.
― Carl Sagan, Cosmos
When I read this poem this morning it reminded me so much of a short story I wrote that I had to repost it. We all hope our dreams become our reality once we move along. Thanks, Walt, for the beauty of the written word.
Often when I sleep I dream I go to a place I call Night Dream Meadow Where the moon is bright And my heart is light And I listen to the voices of the night I walk through the meadow Following the path Leading me to the Rainbow Bridge Where I’m greeted by the dogs […]
The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean.
On this shore we’ve learned most of what we know.
Recently, we’ve waded a little way out, maybe ankle-deep,
and the water seems inviting.
Some part of our being knows this is where we came from.
We long to return, and we can because the cosmos is also within us.
We are made of star stuff.
We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.
Carl Sagan, 1980 Cosmos: A Personal Voyage
These, and literally hundreds of other images of galaxies, stars, nebulas, star clusters, planets, and more taken by the Hubble Spacecraft, can be found at the magnificent site http://hubblesite.org/. You must go visit some time. Travel through the universe. See where we’ve come from. See where we are going.
You may never want to come back.
His last Tweet:
A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP