It is the star to every wand'ring bark

As atoms time atomic clocks

And currents clock the seas,

The rhythm of the motor locks

Our own astronomies


Which otherwise would tear apart

The lap and slip of tide

With the arbitrary stop and start

Af the sky's celestial drive,


The tropic beat of fanning blades

Guidebooks to the Stars—

Whose aimless spellbound drifting trades

Another world for ours:


Expect no vision from those starcrossed eyes,

Bewitched by every passing spark—

Blinded, every shudder multiplies,

And waves grow larger in the dark


But the throbbing of the blood,

Like music of the spheres,

Steadies the arhythmic flood

Of our disastrous ideas,


Setting watches in the night

With heaven's second hand,

Trimming our theodolite

To bring the lightning back to land.



September 19th to 21st, 2008