Author Archives: Scott Bowles
What I Keep
What I Keep
You are my human.
I cock an ear at your word.
I wear your pendant in my name.
I backpocket a chip with the way home,
though that I could never forget.
Mornings I trace your footsteps,
my shadow twinned to yours.
When you sit, I plant myself
like a sapling at your feet,
growing roots in your presence.
Your voice is my north star,
your hands map my favorite places.
I collect your smiles like tennis balls,
store them deep in my chest
where I keep my most precious things.
They say I am your good boy,
but they don’t know half of it—
you are my everything-person,
my always-home,
my heart’s own weather.
What If?

What if stars were synapses?
It would explain the trillions,
Each thought a pinprick of light
In the vast neural night.
What if quasars were eurekas?
Brilliant as all suns combined,
Ancient revelations still traveling
Through the cosmic mind.
What if black holes were sorrows?
Infinitely black, seemingly endless,
Consuming all light and matter
Until time becomes meaningless.
What if the multiverse were dreams?
Colorful clouds of possibility,
Where new thoughts take shape
In the cosmic probability.
What if comets were memories?
Streaking through consciousness,
Periodic returns of communal wisdom
Through celestial vastness.
What if galaxies were ideas?
Spiral arms of structured thought,
Rotating around central truths
That gravity and wisdom wrought.
What if the universe is consciousness?
Expanding ever quicker with self realism,
Each observer a point of awareness
In the grand cosmic mechanism.
Perhaps we are universe dreaming,
Of stars and souls and spaces between,
The edge of mind and cosmos blurring
Into one quantum stream.