Panspermia: A Love Story
“Double View” by Kateryna Bortsova
Imagine a binary star system, two stars, orbiting each other, locked in a billion-year dance. One day, this dance will come to an end in a big, gassy collision, but that’s the subject for a much longer poem. Imagine the gravitational field those two stars inhabit. Imagine that field rolling back and forth in three dimensions like a really, really big waterbed. Now imagine an asteroid, just hanging out in space, doing what asteroids typically do: hanging out in space. Imagine that gravitational field coming up from behind that asteroid, folding over it, stretching around it like a giant rubber band, then catapulting it out, millions of miles out, flying into the big, lightless empty. Then imagine there’s a chunk of ice on that asteroid. Why not? It can get pretty cold out there in the interstellar. And deep within that chunk’s frozen heart: a passenger, a microbe, asleep, a cryogenic sleep, dreaming of asexual reproduction because, seriously, what else would a microbe ever dream of? That asteroid, that chunk of ice, that sleeping microbe speeds through the interplanetary nothing until it doesn’t, until it hits something, something like a planet or the satellite of a planet, someplace with seasons and regular daylight hours and a food supply of some sort. What doesn’t smithereen into oblivion, what doesn’t incinerate upon impact, melts the chunk of ice and wakes the microbe. If the microbe had a head or eyes, it would probably shake its head and rub its eyes. A trillion or so generations later, there’s photosynthesis and echolocation and opposable thumbs and monotheism and the Eiffel Tower and credit scores. Call that fate if you like. Ascribe it to the masterplan of an all-knowing Creator, if you will, but personally, I think that’s being melodramatic. Everything’s pretty much an accident. Like how the moon is the same size as the sun during a solar eclipse. Like you and your ugly break-up with Kurt. Like Antony, the cute Italian-American who suddenly lost interest in having me for a boyfriend. Like the Christmas party we both attended. Like the bottomless glasses of merlot that granted you a modicum of flirt and me a modicum of slutty. You weren’t pogo-ing in some mosh pit and I wasn’t auditioning for the touring company of Sweeney Todd. You asked me for my phone number. I slurred it in your direction. Now there’s a photo sitting on my desk of us on a vacation we took to San Francisco back in 1992. Now you listen to Betty Carter thanks to me and I listen to Nina Simone thanks to you. We’ve all heard the story about the orphan on Ellis Island with only four dollars to his name who went on to become a mega-rich business tycoon. One might be tempted into thinking that’s the only story out there, but it’s actually the only story that gets told. If it wasn’t for you, this story might be a drag or a predictable bore or a saccharine mess. If it wasn’t for you, this story might still be trapped in a chunk of ice careening through the void.
About the Author
Edward Thomas-Herrera is a native of Houston, Texas where he attended Rice University and discovered boys, alcohol, and Expressionism – not necessarily in that order. Later, he moved to Chicago, Illinois where he discovered poetry and playwriting. Edward has a very long resumé of stage credits with which he refuses to bore you.
about the artist
Kateryna Bortsova is a painter – graphic artist with BFA in graphic arts and MFA. Works of Kateryna took part in many international exhibitions (Taiwan, Berlin, Munich, Spain, Italy, USA etc.). Also she win silver medal in the category “realism” in participation in “Factory of visual art”, New York, USA and 2015 Emirates Skywards Art of Travel competition, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. In 2015 Kateryna has personal exhibition at CICA museum (South Korea). Kateryna is always open for commission and you can view her work on Instagram: @katerynabortsova, or on her website: https://bortsova6.wixsite.com/bortsova .