There is an infinite number
Of stars, in the Universe,
Within an infinite number
Of constellations,
Making up limitless,
Almost eternal Galaxies.
In these, there are possibly endless
Forms of life, Unfathomable
Numbers of beings,
Among countless dots
Of waning heavenly light,
In the lengthening Tango of birth
And death.

And I wake up,
In my numbered days,
In a small,
Finite room.
In a Doomed, Peaceless planet.
One,
Young,
Incomplete
Human Being,
In the close vicinity of several others:
All so mortal and sinking heavy
With Briefness.

And in this Flicker,
In this Flash -
I love One woman.
One
Small,
Mortal,
Finite,
Beautifull Woman.

And Am Thankful.