Random Thoughts of Mars, life, its origination
Steeped in science fiction stories and the books of lore.
On a peaceful and sunny day, scattered clouds thin
I looked at the sky toward things I could not
physically see and pictured you, dear Mars.
The center of attention.
Ancient questions of the human race surface
with renwed vigor and attention.
How did we get here?
Where did we come from?
I look at my whitish skin
tinged red from too much time
in the sun and imagine laying
outside on Mars.
I look at my whitish skin
tinged red from too much time
in the sun and imagine my
ancestors roaming the Martian
surface.
Childhood thoughts were consumed by destruction
a pending nuclear winter and the sublime
greyish ash painting the landscape.
Dreams night after night of orange
mushrooms before the fallout.
Where would we go?
This poisoned planet will one day
banish us from its surface.
Where will we go?
The red plant holds slim promise, so
we send machines impervious to the years-long
flight, adjustments, extreme heat and cold,
and the potential fatal landing within an
approximate location.
Eyes glued and breath held as images beam back to us
after minutes of anticipation.
We have arrived.
Are we welcome?
