Back at Camp

we cosmonauts are on
sacred ground
in spectral light from the
heavens
shining down, radiating
love, from
exoplanets unknown
as the bugs chirp
in unison,
in rhythm with the
earth:
mireep, mireep, mireep
the grass a bed of
gentle ululations
warmed by a core
of molten lead
fathoms down,
a central glow
irradiating
kindness and compassion
like a gift,
to us.