Hubble pockets light years, eons, sees eye
to eye with dust, a small drop of water.
NASA’s robot stalks tiptoe, a cat’s paw
on the prowl to report if there is life,
beeps back a monument of stone and ice,
an unresponsive mountain in orbit.
Delicate antennae translate the laws
of physics into a mourner’s sigh.
But the frozen droplet, like the sea
to a drowning man, whirls its rueful hoard
of thanks deferred, of love unvoiced, the pleas
of miracles before the eyes, the mystery
of the heart, the mind’s Post-it notes: Praise the Lord,
Carpe Diem and Memento Mori.