The voyage is over…

…and suddenly, everything is bright again.

The carapace of metal is cracked open like a shell,

Some unknown fruit made of manufactured sinew.

Foreign hands plunge into the delicate heap of metal,

Rummaging, searching, exploring.

The same way the heap once did, long ago–

When lightning still pulsed through its digital veins.

An otherworldly and perishing stone, they decide;

Made of love and precious metals–

Skipped so far on the cosmic sea

That it found its way to the other side of the shore.

Cratering in a field of upside down trees

In a world a billion steps removed from its home,

It would feel at rest, if it could feel

The unknown soil it had plunged into.

The hands cradle the dead explorer, the voyager–

Carrying it to a new home, pulling it open once more;

Removing something more precious than they know.

A golden disc–delicate, shimmering like a yellow sun,

Inscribed with the whispers of an entire planet of life.

In time, they will find a way to read it–

But for now, they will look up at the endless expanse of stars

and know they are not alone.