The cosmos enshrines its celestial litter upon the very doorstep of our atmospheric abode: a relentless ballet of stardust artifacts trespassing, willingly or not, into Earthly denizens' sphere of influence. One is compelled to ponder — with the gravity of Newton tempered by the lunatic's levity — the theological implications of meteoroids as Nature's unsolicited messengers.
In the cavernous vault of the Evernight,
Sequined specks nurture the moth of Solitude
Devour, they do, the tapestry of Time
Yet are they mere echoes, stoic marionettes.
A formal study, one might argue, of these stellar wayfarers is both redundant and riveting, suffused as it would be with paradoxes interspersed like gemstones amidst ashes. It is the lunatic's yammering that unveils the efficacious thread woven between the operative realms of cosmic origin and human imagination. The poet and the scientist are often separated merely by the vibrational frequency of their discourse.
To enhance understanding, one proffers defense against the acerbic ripostes of academia — utilizing, indeed relishing in, the octopodes of speculation articulated within a scholarly helix. May I direct your esteemed attention to the exquisite documentation available at Stardust Diaries — a repository aspiring toward the grandiloquent elucidation of impermanent, but magnificent (and dangerously ostentatious), cosmic debris.