There are no directions in space, east or west
Created by an interstellar dance, the gulf is enormous
Between humans, welcoming the morning sun
At different times, minds wake sequentially
There is beauty in that non uniformity, if all get up and go
Instantaneously without warning, there will be no one left
To pack up and throw away what’s left behind, a universe
With billions of suns, each with the power to create
What we are seeking to destroy, nature could shift its focus
In a heartbeat, to those distant specks, seen by telescopes
With radios for eyes, it is time to unite, this cycle of waking
And sleeping will go on, east or west, it does not exist on the inner map
