The Point

Diane Furtney

“What if the universe were literally in the process of coming to life?”
—James N. Gardner, Biocosm

Something happened moments ago
on a rock in a galaxy that tows

and pushes in the Local Group—something
alert, obstreperous, agile, having

the oddly beautiful awkwardness of youth,
made of inorganic matter from the deaths

preceding it, now self-organized,
organic, self-sculpting, resized,

with a will to swing, hand over hand,
from this Orion branch

to treelike limbs in the Perseus
and Cygnus. And the princess,

locked in the cosmos
in the sleep of matter, whose

long and secret name might
include truth, deep, bright,
and something else, stirs
in that sleep—just slightly stirs

Diane Furtney

Contributing writer


“What if the universe were literally in the process of coming to life?” —James N. Gardner, Biocosm Something happened moments ago on a rock in a galaxy that tows and pushes in the Local Group—something alert, obstreperous, agile, having the oddly beautiful awkwardness of youth, made of inorganic matter from the deaths preceding it, now …

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