“One of the constellations the Milky Way passes through is Sagittarius, where it is brightest…”
For years I have carried a tiny solar system in a small silk pouch in my purse. A refulgent souvenir of the possible as opposed to the actual. Every moment is a first and a last. But one day my purse became too heavy and I decided to put the little worlds into a Ziploc bag and take a hammer to them. With all my might I tried to smash the glass globes to bits. Not out of anger but out of joy. Not in response to fury but in celebration of freedom. My intention was to turn the planets to dust and sprinkle the debris into the air as if I were scattering the ashes of a loved one who had passed away. But the planets could not be crushed. They would not be crushed no matter how hard I hit them. Perhaps some things are indestructible. Even fragile things. So I remain their keeper, their home, their burning light infuser. The laws of nature sometimes overpower my intentions but they also reinforce my deepest truths. Even still I do not need a galaxy of wishes at this time. Hope is what one clings to when one has nothing else. I have everything else. And when I stand alone in the blackest of darkness with this gleaming universe in my hand I can see the future. Just a flash but it is enough. I already know how this polymorphous story ends. Finally, she said. We are all happy now.
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