THE FAR LOOK by MARGARET J. E. BROWN

The empty dark about us makes us seem
To lean out from the mountain side in space.
Above are patterns which our fact-bound race
No longer cares to read; below, lights beam
From starlets, row on tidy row, that gleam
Where we have made our vagrant passions trace
Their useful dikes and ditches -- all the place
A work-day pattern from a work-day dream.
The pity is we should be so content
With stars we make, that blind by their display,
When from some desert mountain we might learn
To look with unblurred eyes on glory sent
Through timeless night from aeon-distant day --
Leave nearer flares to see the far suns burn.

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