Cassini's Last Moments (a poem of sorts)

Cassini

Raanana, September 17, 2017

Up until the last few moments

The objectives of the mission had been nominal:

To receive the project team's requests

To see and taste the atmospheres

Of planets and their moons

And return a steady stream

Of digital impressions to the team

For their analysis and summation,

To make a slow adjustment with one's thrusters,

Point antennas back at earth

No matter where one was,

But nothing braced one for the end.

Oh, one knew one musn't crash

On moons with water (there might be life).

One knew the fuel wouldn't last

To get back home.

One knew there'd only be enough

To fall into the crushing grasp of Saturn.

When one felt the first small tug

Between the rings and methane air

One's thrusters switched to fast-mode.

One thought the team might want to see

What one saw in these last few seconds

But one didn't have the strength

To point the antennas back at earth.

One knew the S-band and the X would be lost.

One was still aware

When the fuel ran out and the thrusters stopped

And one fell helplessly towards the rising face

Unable to fulfill one's mission anymore,

Until one crumpled and was crushed senseless

Like a diamond in the sky.

The team removed their headsets

And some felt strangely sad

As though an unborn thing had died.

They stood up slowly

And for reasons they couldn't quite explain

Held onto each other without saying anything.