To Earth are bound my feet, though still they strive
For starfields, climbing to complete, on high,
A staircase wrought of air, while wond’ring why
This heartless Earth’s, unfair. So I contrive
To sing of more; a tale of how alive
My mind may soar! That takes my feet where sky
May go. But not where they may someday fly.
Although such possibilities arrive,
This island’s all the ether they may know.
And Earth may fall, though lush and beautiful
And built upon in ways of which I’m fond.
Yet when foregone, the Earth they may outgrow–
They’ll make a chariot that, dutiful,
Will show my children’s children the beyond.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: