Out in the Infinite

There must be intelligent life out there

Out in the infinite there must be ones like us
They think and dream and look to a new day
Of other worlds they ponder and then discuss
And maybe they mold statues of native clay

Out in the infinite they live beneath their suns
They likely war and then make a fragile peace
They must have something akin to our guns
And some live to fight and others to cease

Out in the infinite they look below and above
And think of their origins and a guiding being
They cradle their old, their young, with love
And they have their faith without their seeing

Out in the infinite a world sleeps at night
They may know of the red shift or maybe not
And of massive black holes that suck the light
But they tuck in their children, with kisses; a lot

Out in the infinite, a society tries to balance
Consumption or preservation; to use or to save
Freedom or regimentation; stiffness or dance
Order or chaos, their choices may be grave

In our lives there'll be no answer definite
So someone like me may be writing a poem
About who might be out there in the infinite
Considering the possible so far from home

Copyright 2009 - Mindy Makuta (aka MyFairLadyah)
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