I was a nebula once, or so was told,
The brightest spot in heavens arc,
And traveling the ether, eons by, did stop to tarry here.
No rhyme or reason there (just a holiday of sorts),
Where random bits do stop and park,
And warp and woof of jeweled orb become, for the briefest moment.
Now I can but wave farewell and fly,
As there is a nebula I am to be, and mighty distances to ply.
Say not goodbye, for we are one host,  infinitesimal, and infinite in our relations.
No station, caste, or class for us — we are naught but what there is,
And equal is as equal gets when bits is all there is.
Look to the sky when I am gone — you can still see me there…
It’s the bright spot just overhead, just before the dawning,
Or so I am told……