|Rib of the Earth, a granite dome protrudes|
From desert sand. Its shadow arches high
Against the night. Above it, stars exude
Their spidery threads of light to web the sky,
Building a dome concentric with the first:
A conjugate mirror of the curving rock.
Both shells stand parallel, but each reverse
In substance from its twain. To interlock
These disparate realms would seem to be a feat
Impossible. Can Heaven marry Earth?
How may Ideal consort with the Concrete?
What child would such unnatural union birth?
To answer, look more closely at the edge
Between the land and air. Atop this arc
One tiny figure stands upon a ledge,
Tensing to jump. An angel? Beast? The dark
Obscures its face. In which direction will
It leap? Upward, to add a shy new voice
Of meaning to the night? Or down the hill
Again? A universe awaits the choice.
Tuesday, April 03, 2001 at 05:46:36 (EDT) = Datetag20010403