Galileo

The stars are fixed; they do not move.
Instead, what we call firmament
is just a shifting lens that’s bent
to suit the seasons. To approve
or disapprove such things is vain
and futile; our whole history,
that we would carve in stone and brick,
is but a wisp, a palimpsest,
that the next epoch writes anew.

And gods, if such are said to be,
perhaps employ more lasting inks
yet too will fade to faint indents
and leave no greater marks than men.

What once was center is now freed
and to circumference lays the lie;
great spheres of thought that wise men hold
more dear than life itself, deflate.

So what of fate, no more ordained
and best left to the seer’s glass?
What purpose do those notions serve
that would enslave the yearning mind?

We are in motion without end;
there is no point at which, full-stop,
the world could even for an hour
reflect upon its then-new state
so that an unseen force could smile
and praise his finished handiwork.

The stars are fixed; they do not move.
Instead, we hurl through space and time
in some eternal dance of life;
and no stiff doctrine made of men
has power to change the truth of it,
nor outraged, claim as heresy
what they, while blind, deny my eye.

05 APR 2005

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The Shallow Water

a poem in blank verse

Again, the conversation turned to fate;
and as the group was interested, to chance,
the lines of battle drawn between the ones
who thought the world predestined yet misshaped

and those who found perfection or kismet
in random acts and notions of free will.
The problem, said the former, is the lack
of evidence to justify our claim;

and to rebut, the latter said, to wit,
all evidence is houses built on sand.
For after all, our frame of reference fits
inside a thimble floating on a sea.

At best, we know our own spot on the shore;
and of the entire ocean only guess.

04 APR 2004

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Plan B is the Reality of Plan A

Sometimes, I wonder if the choices made
in the heat of the moment, out of my head,
by comparison to some plan would have played
out differently if I’d chosen that plan instead.

While in some way that structure might
have lent some order to the resulting chaos,
making each achievement less of a fight,
there is no way to reckon the loss

that results from adhering to just what you know
and the lessons avoided by acting just so
and besides, all that planning is useless sometimes
when you’re trying to make up your mind
there are some pieces you leave behind.

Sometimes, I wonder if the easier road
is the best way to travel, foot on the gas,
by comparison to the rough path that I chose
that you can’t turn off to from the overpass.

While in some way that highway could
have got me here faster, in far fewer days,
engine less weary there under the hood,
there is no way to reckon the ways

that you learn if you’re looking beyond what you know
and by travel to places you’d rather not go
and besides, no one’s guidebook will take you that far
when you’re trying to find who you are
there are some pieces not seen by car.

Sometimes, I wonder if the next best thing
is the choice you should make from the start;
by comparison, all the sureness Plan A brings
makes you see with your head, not your heart.

While in some ways the clearer plan should
make you more successful, to some small degree,
every plan has its failings, no matter how good,
there is no way to reckon the fee

that you pay if you’re only sure of what you know
and the things you acquire and treasure are for show
and besides, their true value is not guaranteed
when you’re trying to find out what you need
there are some times the danger is speed.

02 SEP 2003

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Your Father’s Son

Most men come here broken,
but you appear undefiled
despite the years you must have spent
out roaming in the wild;
and when I asked you for your name,
you offered up naught but a smile.
No, you are not mild nor meek at heart,
for you are your father’s child.

Most men arrive hungry,
but you mention only thirst,
as if you’d come across the desert,
scorched by sun and cursed;
and when I looked into your eyes,
I saw no dam had burst.
Though your mother tried to shape you,
you were your father’s first.

You wonder of the lesson?
well, it’s already begun;
and we will speak again, in time,
when this lesson is done.
No, there is naught to give you
save the space and leave to run –
for you are complete within yourself,
you are your father’s son.

07 JUL 2003

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