The Beating Heart of the Universe

I would like to hope

That before there was a sky

Bleeding stars,

Before there were planets

Polluted with creation,

That there was still the beating heart

Of the universe,

With glands the first traces

Of constellations,

Veins of wispy light

That hadn’t quite figured out

How to knot themselves together

Into the sun,

But still faintly glowing

As threads of the soul

That would eventually piece us together,

Or at least shine bright enough,

For us to find our way;

I hope it bled,

Dripping its saplings in the ink

It conjured itself from,

Letting them sprout into galaxies,

With golden green leaves,

Their own veins the ones

Mapping out love

And imperfection,

Fluttering,

Too,

As they began to live;

I would like to hope

There was always hope.