THE COSMIC BEAM THAT FOUND ME 🌌
THE COSMIC BEAM THAT FOUND ME
Cosmic Superblast Edition · by Scott L.
It wasn’t morning.
It wasn’t dawn.
It wasn’t anything tied to the sky.
It was night — quiet, still, unremarkable.
Then came a cosmic beam.
Straight through the ordinary,
cutting across the moment
with a clarity that didn’t belong to the hour.
Inside that super laser (Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation) beam
was the voice of Maya Angelou.
Not the icon.
Not the legend.
Not the celebrity.
Just the voice —
your wise next-door neighbor
leaning over the fence
with the warmth of someone
who genuinely cares.
A neighbor with quiet authority —
steady, insightful, compassionate —
the kind of person who speaks truth
without raising her voice.
And beneath it all was love.
A real love.
A dignifying love.
The kind that comes from someone
who has lived through pain
and still chooses compassion.
And here’s the part I can admit only now —
When I was younger,
I wasn’t ready for that voice.
I was too rebellious,
too armored,
too sure of myself,
too wrapped in a false sense of strength.
I thought I was unbreakable —
untouchable —
ferocious.
But all that confidence
was built on shaky ground.
Eventually, life showed me the cracks.
That’s part of why I returned to church eight months ago —
because the ground beneath me
wasn’t as strong
as the ground God was calling me back to.
My pride broke.
My arrogance softened.
My heart opened.
And only now —
with humility back in its rightful place —
could Maya Angelou’s voice reach me.
Only now could that intergalactic beam of light
land where it was meant to land.
THE COSMIC BEAM
And the transgalactic beam itself…
it wasn’t earthly.
It felt like something out of a UFO transport corridor —
a column of burning light
moving forward instead of trailing,
as if the propulsion wasn’t pushing from behind
but pulling from the front,
warping space in the direction it traveled.
A petrodiamond blast
in the darkness of outer space,
cutting through a galaxy unknown,
riding physics we haven’t discovered yet —
the kind explored in theoretical research
on interstellar pathways, temporal wells, warped spacetime,
and vacuum-fold travel.
Even academics wouldn’t dismiss it.
Not the real ones.
Warped spacetime and photonic corridors live inside serious physics —
the equations don’t forbid beams like this.
And that alone gives the moment a strange credibility:
a universe built by His hand,
running on levels we’re only beginning to grasp.
And how does the author — Scott L. — know any of this?
He’d readily admit he didn’t.
Not before tonight.
Not before the beam.
Yet here it is —
arriving with a clarity he can’t claim as his own.
Proof that some knowledge isn’t learned…
it’s delivered.
This wasn’t tail-end exhaust.
It was a forward-blasting ignition —
technology bending spacetime ahead of itself,
snapping reality open
just long enough
to deliver what it carries.
Tonight, this interstellar beam carried her voice.
A reminder that good things travel.
Wisdom endures.
And love — real love —
moves from hand to hand,
heart to heart,
generation to generation.
Tonight,
a single beam carried Maya Angelou’s voice
straight into my life.
Not random.
Not generic.
Not coincidence.
Not lightning — just something gentle.
A gift of grace.
Straight Petrodiamond Blast.
