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Dear God, Gods, Goddess, Great Omnipotent Being (allegedly),

I want to stand on Mars please,

the only occupant.

Look up at the red night sky pregnant with cosmic beauty,

a universe naked in the absence of human-made light,

your great masterpiece of twinkling diamonds.

I want to watch a black hole feast on a star

and

fly too close to the Sun.

See dust swirl and float as I skip across the moon.

I want to view with my own eyes

the magnificence of life on another planet.

Discover the infinite possibilities.

White dwarf, dark matter, red giant,

I want to behold wonders unseen!

To witness a supernova

unleash its awesome power.

Glide through a nebula, yes please.

Gravity,

Mortality,

Hold tight.

Chains of known reality to bind me.

For now,

I shove my feet into comfy slippers to start the morning coffee.

Change to the cold familiarity of my gypsy boots,

brave the snow, ice and mud to free the tiny raptors.

Clucking away in ignorant bliss,

they scratch the earth for sustenance,

content to be free.

Feed and walk the dogs,

muddy boots painting a trail punctuated by pawprints.

Is life just a long series of shoe changes to fit the current terrain?

The secret knowledge of Mr. Rogers revealed.

Maybe I’m suppose to learn something and my reward for leveling up will be a tour of the universe? I'll learn anything you'd like for a prize such as that.

For now I drink my bittersweet coffee,

wiggle my toes back into soft slippers,

and daydream.

Futile musings of a curious mind.

Is science yet another religion?

A desperate need for answers,

to comprehend mysteries never meant to be decoded in this reality.

Too heavily encrypted for mental consumption.

Why did you give me such an inquisitive mind

then shackle me to the paperweights of others?

It is painful to think this much,

a dreadful neverending ache.

I am certain that ignorance really can be bliss,

but fear even the thought of not craving knowledge.

Knowledge is my addiction.

Devouring books and the knowing of others,

like a greedy black hole gobbles innocent stars.

Inciting the poetic chaos of my thoughts to birth their own galaxy of mysteries.

If you really do exist, why would you create an insatiable mind without the ability to process the data?

Perhaps you could simply share the password with me now?

I’ll wait as patiently as possible.

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