An ever-changing
space.
Immense objects like scrap metal zooming in orbit to the Earth.
Inky as night, with millions of twinkling lights.
And you feel yourself floating,
floating as gravity leaves
you, nothing but a glorious view of Earth.
The blue, green of the land,
white of the Poles.
The Aurora Borealis between your feet,
Its breathtaking, immortal
light.
Until you look up, and see the galaxy,
An array of colours, tidbits of black splattered here and there.
The whole thing like a disc, tilted, ready to spin.
Occasionally, there goes a shooting star,
Whoosh! There it goes again.
With trailing sparks,
like embers in a fire.
The warnings in your spacesuit beeps,
it is almost out of oxygen.
Voices cackle through the speaker,
urging you to go back
to the station.
But you don't want to go
You want to stay,
in this perfect world.
The cord holding you
pulls, pulls, pulls
until the Space is very far away,
and all you see is sterile, white walls of the Space Station.
The door seals shut,
and that was your first time in
Space.