by Gideon Burton
What if Copernicus himself were wrong
About the earth and sun? How many men
Or women skyward turn and study long
With instruments and charts so they'll know when
A tiny prick of light unravels all?
Or who have tamed the mysteries of math,
Abstractions that themselves cast deeper pall
Than midnight's starry field? A limpid bath
Of noonday light reveals our center sure,
Around whose fixed seat the sun, the moon
To billions have portrayed their coursing blur.
To say we turn around the sun, what boon?
We bow to learned men and to their books,
Though they defy how plain the cosmos looks.
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr- Carolune