Jupiter proves that some storms
never die-
its own gale has raged for countless
centuries
and its own surface lay concealed under a heavy layer of
clouds and gas and deep mystery,
its thousand year infernos fueled by a source
known only to the giant itself,
because no man or woman has ever breached
its skin-
perhaps no one ever will-
it remains a cold and isolated colossus,
alone in its place among its brothers,
with an unknown fury broiling beneath
its mask and
a whirlwind of questions brewing under that painted
facade,
scrutinized and studied and yet still not fully
understood-
it’s only seen from a distance,
never from within-
who would be able to step foot on its
surface?