The Silent Passage of the Long Wave

From steel towers or from a remote echo,
it springs forth, without haste, the unseen trace.
No hiss tears the unknown canvas,
only an electric beat, imperceptible.
It crosses the veil of cosmic dust,
among spent nebulae, sleeping galaxies,
a whisper of data, an anamnesic voice,
to the abysses of nothing eternally absent.

It neither scratches the light nor ignites the rock,
it does not clothe its astral passage with sound.
It is a trace of energy, a mute burst
that navigates the void, never common.
It asks for no horizons, seeks no boundaries,
it persists in being, an intact certainty.
And while the stars draw new destinies,
she dances with the shadow, eternal greatness.