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Galactic Frontier

"It's its own world, no?"
Oh no; no, no, no.

Tis much more, Horatio, than you or I
can ever dream in our philosophy.

World of frontera runs two thousand miles
from Texas Tamaulipas to Pacific shore

and

I write only one stone west on that long
chain of dusty pearls, yet this Tijuana
gem holds more than I can fit in my pen.

Not a single world, star, constellation,
but a galaxy, no two galaxies
in collision, ripping oceans of stars
from each other's bodies, exchanging our
nebulae, combining gasses, dust, fire
and ice in storms of creation and death.

No words can do justice to this event;
we may only, like the Buddha, point at

it.