We were a mote of dust
Hung in a beam of light
Streaming in a wide window
Of a grand cathedral
Dedicated to things too big to understand
We were a bubble in glass
Moving imperceptibly
Infinitely slowly
You can mark our progress
In another thousand years
We were a rotting piece of driftwood
Floating on
What we once called
The Great Pacific
Before it burned away
We'll end somewhere
Not far from where we started
Entombed here
In Aniara