Jupiter looms above us.
Each swirling maelstrom continent-sized.
The colors extend far beyond the visible
The AI VR brings the beauty of infrared
and the serenity of ultraviolet to light.
The sleet of particles rain down
repelled by our field's flux.
Safe and snug inside our craft
the odd green glow embraces
our own private Aurora.
The AI shares our joy in chaos
the poetry that is the planet
inscribed in our largest gravity well.
Its data feed enthralls its brethren
As we share data with our faces.
Ah but I was born too early
to see this but early enough
to imagine.
About the Creator
Another David
Hey, I know you've got choices for your reading. I'm interested in feedback and reactions. I've a wide range of interests. Starting with my own journey after an unexpected divorce and then a hopeful fun story.
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli3 days ago in Poets
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