The First Light

Lynn Rosa André

   The persimmons ripen and we are caught in a web of
tendrils of light — eyes wide                                     open, galaxies tattooed                
on the inside of our eyelids.

                      There is a forest inside of us that never wavers,
where the bamboo stalks                                                            caress the stars
               and the chlorophyll from our hands reaches our hearts.

          Moss-covered, we touch each other in astonished bewilderment.     
Have we forgotten? — Our bodies,                                     tender and untamed
                              suspended in cosmic radiance.

                    This transient summer, in our aching palms that hold 
both honey and hope                                                                     in equal measure,
we are never-ending.

The Science

Drafted shortly after the release of the first images from the James Webb Space Telescope, while I was in remote, rural South Portugal, this poem is an attempt to capture the moment of awe in realising how closely related the structures of the macro and the micro are, how one can find the same patterns whether zooming out or in — like the delicate patterns of veins on leaves mirror neural networks, how they in turn resemble our maps of galaxy clusters. How life, in all its brilliant diversity on Earth, has largely the same structure built on the same building blocks; and finally, how there is reverence in feeling as a part of the whole structure of life on this fragile planet.

The Poet

Lynn Rosa André (she/they) is a writer and artist from Luxembourg interested in exploring the edges of the human experience. Weaving together science(-fiction), ecology, and myth, she explores the beauty and terror of the cosmos through poetry, speculative fiction and visual arts. Her poetry can also be found in Aner Welten.

Next poem: The scientist and the poet by Emilie Lygren