Plea to Moirai

Weaving silk galaxies

Milky way made futures

It is a big big sky

And now these planets feel the long awaited gravity

Pulling them together

Pummeling forward, yet orbiting

At a pace that seems to distance each heartbeat

Til it may seem they’re suspended

Couldn’t these orbits spin faster

Oh weavers of time?

Could those sewing needles swim quicker

So we can leave our old centuries behind?

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