Poet/astronomer Rebecca Elson (who died at age 39) left us with a stunning poem that speaks
to this most human of fears.  I imagine her marveling over embodiment, our place in the cosmos,
and our eventual, inevitable leave-taking.  Wisdom shines through in her word-play.

Antidotes to Fear of Death

Sometimes as an antidote
To fear of death,
I eat the stars.

Those nights, lying on my back,
I suck them from the quenching dark
Til they are all, all inside me,
Pepper hot and sharp.

Sometimes, instead, I stir myself
Into a universe still young,
Still warm as blood:

No outer space, just space,
The light of all the not yet stars
Drifting like a bright mist,
And all of us, and everything
Already there
But unconstrained by form.

And sometime it’s enough
To lie down here on earth
Beside our long ancestral bones:

To walk across the cobble fields
Of our discarded skulls,
Each like a treasure, like a chrysalis,
Thinking: whatever left these husks
Flew off on bright wings.

By Rebecca Elson (1960-1999) poet & astronomer, from A Responsibility to Awe.
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

Image:  One of Hubble’s most stunning images:  a tempestuous stellar nursery located
in the Carina Nebula, 7,500 light-years away.  In honor of Elson, who  died at age 39 from
non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  She was among the scientists who studied the first images from
the Hubble Space Telescope.  Learn more:
https://hubblesite.org/contents/media/images/2010/13/2718-Image.html?news=true

Image Credits: NASA, ESA, Mario Livio (STScI), Hubble 20th Anniversary Team (STScI)