Space that expands, stretching every molecule
every atom until snapping back into shape.
Cycle, recycle, over millions, billions, trillions
of years. Maybe this has happened before?
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form
Space that expands, stretching every molecule
every atom until snapping back into shape.
Cycle, recycle, over millions, billions, trillions
of years. Maybe this has happened before?