Surfing the Saturnalian winds

Ride the wild surf Surfing on the winds of Saturn gale force laughter as the tiny button sized sun gives off a wan light Earth robots flung far and wide on the mathematical formulas of gravity, momentum, and mass Astronauts and cosmonauts men and women- brave and armed with inquisitive minds trained and trained in muscle and brain memorization for any event Surf the towering ammonia clouds as 300 hundred mile per hour winds buffet the titanium impregnated carbon fiber boards Core rope memory hand woven by the fingers of diligent women is the software that is permanently incorruptible In eternal silence but within the bowels of the spacecraft are the sounds of human embraced machinery eternally vigilant Their frail carbon carasses encased in micro sized fullerene suits as nano reflectors gather light to see the whip sawing eddies Old tech is hardened Against the pulses of light speed gamma waves Protons merely bounce off the bundled, millimeter thick wires To slice and evade this Saturnalian wildness as those three weary one by one they fall by the wayside preserved by short burst qubit communications Space is but a knowable frontier to surf not the least knowable world but we, humans, want to measure ourselves