In 2007, the Hubble Space Telescope captured an extraordinary view of the Carina Nebula, revealing a stellar nursery where young stars are disrupting the surrounding material, the remnants of the massive cloud from which they were born. Situated around 7,500 light-years away within our galaxy, this image offered astronomers a unique opportunity to study the process of star formation with unprecedented detail. The discovery of six potential neutron stars—the dense remnants typically formed after stars explode in supernovas—further supports the idea that supernova activity is on the rise in Carina. Carina Nebula has been a veritable birthplace of supernovas. 

Image credits: NASA, ESA, N. Smith (University of California, Berkeley), and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA); CTIO data: N. Smith (University of California, Berkeley) and NOAO/AURA/NSF

The Stillness that Remains

In the beginning, I was the spark
When I breathed, water flowed
When I opened my eyes, the air wrapped me
When I let out a cry, the sun knew my voice

It whispered:

You were real before you were named
You were seen before you were loved
You were endless before you were weighed
You are the light that bears witness

Space gave way so I can grow
fingerprints with the signature of the sky
I laughed, I dreamed and I played
because joy is my birthright,
and wonder is my element

The dawn yielded its beauty and might
so I reflected back
in delicate shifts and in surges,
the same signals through
the network under my skin,
that form the swirl of emotions
and the stirring of thought

Life begged me to move
through the swell of my voice,
and in written verses,
through the grace of motion,
and in the melody under my fingertips,
to a primordial beat I recognised,
a deep resonant rumble
far more distant than heartbeat

Thus it unfolded until twilight
when rhythm was lost,
along with my voice,
when emotion and thought
veered from their source,
when play disappeared
and the answers implored—

To remind me of who I was
when I needed holding,
but received silence, 
when I dimmed my light
while it was unsafe to shine,
when I built a temple of medals
in order to be seen,
when I tailored my truth
to fit their architecture of worth

The sky held me in knowledge:

You were glow that was etched 
in the birthplace of stars,
unfolding order and chaos 
before you were contained

You were force that was carved 
inside the womb of the nebula,
requiring no proof nor permission 
before you were inked 

You were echo that rippled,
and traced the arrow of time
existing before numbers could count,
before you were measured in years

You were sky that did not bound,
that only bent to take shape,
surrounding paradoxes that be
before you were taught to contract

You were light that traversed,
the duality that did not break,
carrying the message in continuum,
before you were marked by color

You were consciousness that drew 
breath from pulsing stars,
singing ancient hymns,
before you spoke in the language of words

And so I remember
as I sit through the longest hour
of winter’s reign and shadow,
that when the ground shakes
and the world’s palette fades,
when purpose is spent
and the creator forsakes,
when youth is past
and the beholder drifts,
when the flame burns out
and the faithful leaves,

I am the stillness that remains.

Sancta.  
Sovereign.  
Seen.  
I am.

For every child who was fervently wished, whose name was softly spoken into the womb and nurtured into existence, there is another who was sought to be taken away before their time, and yet persisted, and thus arrived to a world where no hands reached out to welcome them with joy.

May this be a poem for every child birthed but was told they were not chosen, for every child shaped to fulfill someone else's needs, for every child that yearned to be seen. Remember who you were before you started doing. Read this poem aloud until you hear the voice of stardust recognising itself. All the way from supernovas, you are a true odyssey of stars.