"Gas released by a dying star races across space at more than 600,000 miles an hour, forming the delicate shape of a celestial butterfly." - Hubble site
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
I lean my head slowly to the side, reflect on the camellia on the moss
of the temple, reflect on a cup of tea, while outside the wind is rustling
the foliage, the forward rush of life is crystallised in a brilliant jewel
of a moment that knows neither plans nor future, human destiny is rescued
from the pale succession of days, glows with light at last and, surpassing
time, warms my tranquil heart.