Two Pieces

Louhi Pohjola

Pillars of Creation, Eagle Nebula

Even those pillars that haunt space-time are eroding, say astronomers. The 

towering Three Graces of interstellar gas and dust were captured in rapturous 

detail by the modern-day Rafael and Rubens, the Hubble and James Webb 

telescopes. Now, some might see elephant trunks, others stalagmites protruding 

from a cavern floor. Other imaginations conjure undersea coral, enchanted castles, 

space serpents, or arches and spires arising from a desert landscape. Those three

pillars play with the mind: five light years tall and bathed in UV light from young 

massive stars, they birth monstrous stars in their incomprehensible nurseries.   

Their fingers that point to destruction are larger than our own solar system.

We still hope they take pity on us, keep stirring up wonder. 


To remind ourselves of hope, we place their image on everything from T-shirts 

to coffee mugs. But astronomers say the photos capture light emitted 6500 years ago. 


The Pillars may no longer exist. If Thalia, Euphrosyne, and Aglaea are gone, 

who now blooms joy and beauty into the heavens?

Upending the Cosmological Principle

—The Cosmological Principle states that above a certain spatial scale, the universe is homogeneous and looks identical in every direction.


Defying assumptions of what’s possible,

cartographers of the cosmos draw

maps of where Boötes the Herdsman

sends his men to lasso the celestial bull 

with the Big Ring through his nose, 

the lasso and ring megastructures 

in a mega-space, the ring a diameter 

of 1.3 billion light years.


How that bull must snort and paw

through the maw of the heavens!

If we could see his ring with our eyes, 

it would shine as fifteen full moons in the night sky.


O! To view an animal of such gargantuan

proportions—no matter if born

from acoustic waves or cosmic strings.

To get close enough to see the lasso arc

its way towards him, barely touch

his stiff whiskers before he tosses

his magnificent head, snorts fumes

through his Ring, shakes

stars out from his shaggy coat.

Louhi was born in Montreal, Canada, to Finnish immigrant parents. She was a cell and molecular biologist before teaching sciences and humanities in a small high school in southern Oregon. She is an avid fly-fisherwoman and river rock connoisseur and is obsessed with black holes and octopi. Louhi lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and her temperamental terrier. The latter thinks that he is a cat. (Her favorite celestial body is the black hole!)