by Gideon Burton
How is it that our ranging minds across
Both time and space can freely, widely roam,
As though it lay within our means to toss
The years of light aside as waves do foam?
The tides of sluggish time for us will rise
But half a sigh and then return us low
Despite those worlds we compass with our eyes,
Regardless where our starry dreams will flow.
My grandfathers, like distant planets, shine
Across the inky fabric of my past
In dimming rays, and I have yet to find
My kin, beyond one generation vast.
Our minds behold what never we can touch;
Our time, our space, three pebbles in our clutch.
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Image: flickr - kern.justin