Reciprocity

Alone,
and riding its momentum
out across the chasm
of an unreflecting void
is Voyager,
its waning, hopeful beep
an act of faith; there lies within
a particle of us—
ready to embrace the one
who looks inside.

It is a shell of nothingness
without a dream to nourish its long night,
a worthless orb of metal in a cold black sky,
hope thrown into a phantom alien hand
unseen, unguided, yet unknown to God,
a Flying Hollander condemned
to yet another seven year eternity.
Still not a journey, no, not yet—a vanity,
until it meets its purposed end.

So is a love impossible,
a non-reality, a formula alone
until it is returned.
Like Voyager, its effort laudable,
like stick to fire, indifferent
'til it's burned.
And he, without a lover
will not understand:We do not fall in love—
we love, are loved;
create and are created,
know, and then are fully known.
~