air and water, at least

Air, water—
      All that you’d need ‘til death,
    Potentially;

  A breath of energy
        Necessary, critically, to the upkeep
    Of your solar-sailed-sanctuary;

          And an energy source
    For you, quite forever.

Long-term; then,
  And then on only the most
        Fortuitous stellar-wind,

              Could you escape this world,
              Perhaps ne’er to return.

        Such’re blackened pearls—
  That they’d beg what’d yearn
‘Yond the ‘ever?

    In space, through time,
          To the end of billionth day?

    For now, maybe so-ever—
        As it, in mem’ry-must-lay,
  Once-seemed so sublime:

    A dream’s
      Still the very best way
To outrace time.

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    Poetry: Many Wars
        https://windstrewn.com/2020/07/29/many-wars/