Long Live The Queen

Once upon a time, reaching you became man’s greatest accomplishment and I wonder, might you have the greatest perspective of all to share?

Throughout time, you have traced the lineage of a terrestrial epic, spelled out over a millennia. Your quiet testaments gave rise to the tides in the physical and spiritual realms as a mosaic of yearning took shape beneath you and people wandered scattered, lost, and seeking meaning in the silence between the stars.

Beneath you a woman danced, her arms outstretched to those tides. She spoke of cycles, death and rebirth, and of the womb as a temple. Her followers painted spirals on the walls of caves and whispered to the wind and this was the birth of mystery.

Elsewhere a man in white robes beneath a blistering desert sun, carved words into stone. Law thundered in his voice, eyes burned with justice. People around him gathered, bound not by blood but by covenant. This was the birth of commandment.

Sensing the divine in bark and breath, a child touched a tree and wept. From this moment grew a forest of faiths: animism, shamanism, the sacredness of place. Spirits wore the faces of animals and gods lived in the rocks and rivers.

A martyr stood before a crowd, bleeding and radiant. His death became a seed that grew a mighty tree of forgiveness, sacrifice and resurrection. Cities would rise around his memory and empires would fall in his name.

Eventually in a distant library, a scholar would light a candle, declaring that reason was divine. His faith was in order, in logic, in the sacred geometry of the cosmos. Temples of thought emerged, where belief bowed to proof.

Each religion was a mirror- reflecting the fears, hopes and wounds of its time. They clashed, merged and evolved. Gods were born from grief, rituals shaped by famine and prayers whispered in the shadow of wars.

The cycle of humanity persisted and yet still we adapted further. A future where belief fractured into billions- each person a prophet, each screen a shrine. Faith became fluid, personalized, algorithmic. People worshipped not just gods, but ideas, brands, memories. Some prayed to silence. Others to noise. They battled between the light and dark, concepts that only apply to an earth that shades itself as it turns and the people who take meaning from it.

All under your permanent, yet ever-changing gaze. Cultures mapped worlds under the tutelage of your silent guidance; and the input of fellow celestial scholars. Like flies on an otherworldly wall, what might you tell us should we actually speak? Would your spirit fill me with the infinite knowledge of the stars?

Fascinated by your steady hand, humanity has built itself underneath your eternal light. An un-earthly Queen quietly gazing down upon her terrestrial fiefdom, fickle and full of impermanence. To think of the things your reign might see to the end is as incomprehensible as your beauty in the sky.

Long live the Queen.