While slipping through this lunar grit
just slightly spared from gravity
so much stronger back at home,
I witness Earthrise one last time
and stare with hopes to soak it in,

so next month, when I'm glancing up
from the yawning of my yard
to spot this cratered second home,
I might recall why I'd return
to either world, should I be asked:

that openness of endless space,
proximities of human warmth,
to stand where most will never tread,
or walk beside my dearest ones.

Sometimes the launches come too fast,
and other times I'd have it last,
forever if I had the choice:
those starry eyes, his velvet voice,
and yet that impulse: become one
with cosmos, planet, soul, and sun.

Between these spheres I often stride
I've come to love there's no divide.
With terminal velocity
the universe renews in me
even as I sense some end.
These journeys taught me to transcend.