Perhaps it seems surprising that physicists seek beauty, but in fact they have no choice. As yet there has not been an exception to the rule that the demonstrable solution to any problem will turn out to be an aesthetic solution.
I traveled light years
Through cosmic storms and dust,
Only to find you sleeping
on your simple cot.
Stepping back,
I folded,
Quietly,
My gray ragged wings.
I could see why he chose you,
The glow of your pure breath...
I didn’t mean to frighten you,
Just wanted to keep looking...
I wanted to breathe in your innocent air,
Look at your soft,
Surrendered hands...
Another second ...
Before I told you the news.