Silver shield is on guard in the neighbouring orbit of peculiar blue planet filled up with oceans, forests, deserts and descendants of first human beings. Silver shield isn't keen to reveal its secrets as it's always pointed towards Earth the same bright, visible side though everybody knows about second one. In the front of Silver shield some lost Spielberg's E.T. has flown by once, trying to get back home with a little help of friends. And yet we have abandoned Silver shield not so long after the first giant leap for a mankind was made to fulfil president's bold dream....

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I wander in the wonderland of words where sounds can rhapsodize an inner flight and seek to sing like skylark midst the birds. To feel a lyric line is ringing right that rose unknowingly from secret source can send my senses soaring with delight. What guides the reasoned rhyme's creative course? the urging of an enigmatic muse? or might it be a fundamental force? The words may dance or promenade in twos, at times leap forth as in a lightning flash, or shower phrases in prismatic hues… When glimmers come but embers turn to ash, there are no syllables with...

An afterlife awaits a star on having bid its au revoir in supernova's days of yore, with remnant of collapsing core impressionistic as Renoir. The cosmos leaves the door ajar for astral evolution far with pulsar winds wherefrom outpour an afterlife. In vast sidereal memoir, through brilliant stellar repertoire, midst universe's evermore with skies our astro-eyes explore, from starry stuff we humans are an afterlife. ~ Harley White * * * * * * * * * “We are made of stellar ash. Our origin and evolution have been tied to distant cosmic events. The exploration of the cosmos is...