I float before our sunlit globe,
Where I'm one of but a few.
To have worn this atmosphere-filled robe,
And looked at Earth anew.

Suspended in cold boundless space,
No near friend but The Moon.
Our star vivifies Earth's sculpted face,
Its bauble to festoon.

All life's joys and pains are there,
Past, present and yet to come.
It's billions; brief alive, aware,
The horological human hum.

Vast calm belies its busy days,
It's nights of quiet reflection.
The tranquillity it to me displays,
Suspends belonging and connection.

For here there's no true up or down,
No ground beneath my feet.
No country, state, or city, town,
No day or night to greet.

I take these things for granted,
They're what forms my world illusion.
Such that on its firm ground planted,
All is steadiness not confusion.

Confined within its air-filled band,
Of weather and warmth and sound.
Astronauts and dreams but spanned,
And with which our world is bound.

Encased; our everything, our fate,
It's there we come and go.
In existence, we participate,
And all we'll likely ever know.

A brief appearance in the void of time,
Scant moment of concern.
A comma in unending rhyme,
Too fleeting to discern.

Its nighttime side reveals the glow,
Of populations large and small.
A shadow, the Sun cannot beknow,
Where Its light can never fall.

I gaze enthralled at its size and wonder,
Here without knowing quite where.
Corollary, of big-bang plunder,
Gyroscopically spinning; just there.

Too soon its strong embracing reach,
Deflects my orbit's track.
As gravity and time beseech,
Slow pull me ever back.

I've enjoyed this rare excursion,
And its fanciful endeavour.
In space my brief immersion,
Has perspective changed forever.