On a calm and windless summer day,
When all seems endless still.
No breeze with cotton clouds to play,
Or to move Earth has a will.

Our globe has ground to a peaceful halt,
Afloat in space and time.
To await as if a steady jolt,
Lost momentum to re-prime.

But belied by tranquil equipoise,
And if from distance we could see,
Our vibrant world, its lives and noise,
Would seem as if from self to flee.

For beyond our sure sidereal spin,
We orbit 'round the Sun.
Our Solar System itself within,
The Milky Way, where further spun

And galaxies themselves at speed,
Are dragged away still faster.
On a course the universe will lead,
In spirals ever vaster.

So when the Sun has slowly dipped,
On a day resisting end.
With wonder greet the night equipped,
And a moment stood-still spend.

Feel astral wind upon your face,
And hear its stellar hum.
As through the universe you race,
To its velocity succumb.

This infinite star encrusted clock,
Of which its slow hand we're a part,
Propels us, and this gleaming rock,
Ever further from its start.

On a calm and windless summer day,
When all seems endless still.
You've flit many million miles astray,
Unknowing ride, and unfelt thrill.