Flourishing with life,
The blue Earth turns.
Spinning softly, humming through its cycles.
Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer, life is teeming and blossoming.
Developing and deconstructing.
Turning itself inside out exposing vulnerabilities to the inhabitants in all of it's savage fury and glory.
What kind of beauty would Earth be if it were traveled alone?
To share with no one,
Is too solitary for anything even as or more powerful than the universe to endure.
It is to die alone.