For thirteen hours and twenty-four minutes,
we have tailed the cosmic trail
of the vandalizing devils
who dared damage our ship’s hyperdrive.
I stare out the glass and into the black
that seems to be the color of my mood.
The surrounding clusters of gas and rock,
such maddening technicality—
are insistently scattered in our way.
My growing impatience covets an audience
with the supernova responsible.
Clean up after yourself, you haphazard accident!
The sudden impact of an asteroid fragment
sends a jarring quiver through the console.
I stumble, beating my head
against the mocking wall.
Curse this string of ill luck.
The ship enters familiar territory,
the constellations resembling
the drawings of my awed child self.
Fate, I know you despise me,
but I would like to know
how you designed countless sequences
from congeries of these burning pests.
I look up from my narrative just in time
to be half-blinded
by the enormous swirl of reflecting dust and gas,
arranged so deceptively
as something marvelous.
A commander steps to my side
with an update on the ship’s recovery
and a sudden knot in his tongue
as his eyes widen at the window’s display.
He is lost in admiration with the rest of the crew.
I wave a dismissive hand,
but as the footsteps fade,
I turn back to the cloud and address the authority of the stars once more.
You are curious things,
claiming to own control,
yet not half clever enough to create this.
A flash of ship darts across our view like a plunging comet,
and I hear faint assurances that there is no cause for alarm.
Under gritted teeth,
I swear I’ll catch the ravaging rogues
who forced me into this speed-reduced scenic route.
I’ll thank them.
I find my eyes turned to my shoulder,
gazing as the galaxies fade along with my headache.
My destiny is destined against me,
but despite our mutual mistrust,
I can’t help but reason
that even though it seems as if the stars rule the universe,
they are far too intricate to have established themselves.
This storm of a world
is the work of Someone greater.