Seeking for the missing offspring of our solar family

prodigal son or love-child lost

Devachian guardian spirit or potent millennial lord

Who knows?!

Discounting ex-planets, cosmic corpses

Or incipient ones gestating in the etheric hinterlands

That Vulcan is only a pseudonym and Chiron, harbinger

We man-hunt it down with the questing antennae of our psyches

With our telescoping minds and probabilities

Daring to consider we may pin-point that elusive creature

- without its permission, before it is willing to be found.

 

Stay free, eldritch being of nameless graces, nameless dooms!

I don’t doubt there are fool-proof (super-natural!) reasons

That we should not, could not label it yet-a-while

Or lay our heinous fingers and eyes upon it.

The state of our Earth and selves evidence enough

Against our trustability in handling sacred things.

The rest of the solar crew, they will know its whereabouts

Its nature, its number, its name.

 

Whereas if we did discover it

Before we express, even faintly, in our collective lives

The equation of equal rights and spaces

Why, we would, without further ado

Reduce it to its component parts, dismembering it

Into mortally graspable bits, spatial, temporal, causal

And then congratulate ourselves

On yet another cosmic mystery unraveled

- deeming violation is somehow justified by terming it a conquest

Which, as long as unconsenting and loveless

And whatever the legal bills, is still a rape.

 

So without strings, innominate wanderer

Let us send you the only thing that renders relationships

Truly creative, joyous, fruitful

Which is love

(not the lust to catch you, touch you, enter you, consume)

Love, unconditional,  reaching out, in salutation….

…and, mayhap you might respond

And that an introduction may be ripe, right:

That its time we get acquainted

Thee and We.