For once, incentive was just not enough:
Iconic aspirations fueling marvels
Before dilated and faithful pupils,
Twice humbled in the “starry dynamo of night.”
And these resonating flashes of sky
Always show before they tell;
But waiting in the dark silence we invent their message
Together with our words’ embrace hidden below
In a slow, earth-bound light.
We see with closed and recognizing eyes,
Fearlessly treading this rock searching the warmth
Of a glistening ember floating deep
Within the pit to which our substance is dragged.
A muffled beat, bump quaking beneath in aching,
When the message came it found us deafened
By our own voices.