An afterlife awaits a star
on having bid its au revoir
in supernova's days of yore,
with remnant of collapsing core
impressionistic as Renoir.
The cosmos leaves the door ajar
for astral evolution far
with pulsar winds wherefrom outpour
an afterlife.
In vast sidereal memoir,
through brilliant stellar repertoire,
midst universe's evermore
with skies our astro-eyes explore,
from starry stuff we humans are
an afterlife.
A wonderful starry afterlife has been painted on the canvas of your beautiful poem. A well crafted and executed write.10
Thank you for your marvelous reaction and for reading and commenting on my new rondeau!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We are but the universe, looking back upon itself.
Indeed... thanks for your comment...