Friday, March 5, 2010

Big Dipper

It makes as much sense
to throw a dart
into a Christmas tree
as it does to fire
a rocket into space.

Seeking new worlds
is like paying
a surprise visit
to the strangers
down the road.

The Age of the Explorers began to die
The year I was born: an aging philander -
himself not too long for the world -
committed the next ten years
to putting a man on the moon.

WE DID IT! and all that,
but twenty years later,
when I finally got around
to looking up into space,
I knew entirely too much.

For example, I knew
that the Big Dipper
is mostly empty.
I also knew that
the Age of Explorers

was really an Epoch
of Plunder and Redemption.
Now, I believe
that my Redeemer lived
two thousand years ago,

but it is only today
that I come to understand
His love for the desert:
you go to the Big Place
to be embraced, and embued.

You go to the Big Place
when the Day of Redemption
is about to give way
to the Age of Disciples -
because next thing you know,

the explorers are back,
looking for patrons
who are looking for plunder...
You go to the Big Place
to feel as if

you haven't bought into
the glib, gilded fib
of all the small places.
Spared, in the starry night,
by the endless horizon,

you may yet avoid
becoming a part of
the mostly nothing
about to be scooped up
by the Big Dipper.

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