Cedar and birch drift beneath stone arch,
carrying you, carrying me, like the aliens we are
through black hole into universe unknown.

With our torch like a sun, the stream a navy sky,
and stalactites above as glinting constellations
yet unnamed on gold and green,

I see everywhere is earth here, everything is sky.

The canoe could roll and this globe could spin, 
and I could not get dizzier than I already am-

floating, falling, suspended, flying,
with us the insignificant center of gravity

in space, 
this space enclosed.