directed panspermia



their sun grows hot:
their world will die.
is all space empty,
barren, beyond their
world, their dying world?
do they die alone?

or is other life out there?
they’ve looked for life,
longed for life, searched
for other minds.
but none
were found.

it saddens them:
they do not want
the only spark of life they know
snuffed out by chance.
they refuse to die alone.

millennium ships they could build
– a  few, but they may find
no livable worlds. no guarantees
with ships so sparse, so few. 

but small probes, smart probes,
primed with just the right microbes,
myriad probes for myriad worlds – these
they could disperse   abundantly.

perhaps, in time, eventually,
intelligence would again emerge

& they will not have died in vain.