“navigating the far dark“
Out past the last buoy of orbit,
a vessel steadies itself against
vastness of unclaimed distance.
No single hand governs its course
—only the faint pressure of choices
made long before launch,
software still lingering within its frame.
Panels with stored intention,
circuits hold measured rhythm,
and the hull keeps its long vigil
as constellations wheel without sound.
Here the vessel is its own logic
—a structure tuned to endure
the slow arithmetic of distance.
Then someone steps into the cockpit
with their own interior weather
—their thresholds, their private lexicon,
their reasons for choosing one star‑lane
over another.
A route brightens under their gaze,
a corridor opens in the dark,
their pulse guiding the next turn.
None of these alone completes the voyage.
The dock gave pressure,
the craft gives shape,
the traveller gives current.
Only together do they form the expanse
where meaning moves,
carried forward in proportion,
a vessel crossing the far dark
with its bearings intact.
.
