“Thus you shall go to the stars.”

 –Virgil

Of gamelans and pictograms I sing,

of satellites with gossamer fins

arrayed with Apollo’s flaxen rings!

With ancient hearts and minds, contained herein:

may you accept this interstellar ark

which cut the vacuum with its ivory nose

and bore its noble calyx to the dark,

a billion nights of spinning in repose

until it fell upon your alien shore.

Of the Brandenburg and glorious Fifth

I sing, Queen of the Night and Morning Star!

Like dew, you must shake the stardust from our lips–

O Melancholy Blues, O Devil Bird!

We’re resurrected with each passing word.