Some night when the world is quiet, and the stars are on display,
And the moon is late in rising, permit yourself to fall
Upward into a sky so black you feel you must obey.
Ascend into its limitless spaces. Listen to its call
Some night when the world is quiet and the stars are on display.

If you can see with your ears, or hear with your sense of touch,
You may detect the first sound, which compelled existence to fly
Away as fast as it could, as though hearing it were too much.
You will learn why the smallest star accelerates from our sky
If you can see with your ears, or hear with your sense of touch.

Then space will curve around you like a smooth but solid wall,
The galaxies will redshift but the darkness will seem blue,
And sounds will resonate as if you stood inside a hall.
If you allow the night to fill the vacuum inside you
Then space will curve around you like a smooth but solid wall

And you will go on living as though time were just a dream,
But the hours will be minutes, and the decades will be years,
And the past will be the future, until living starts to seem
More real than all these measures, and an inner world appears,
And you will go on living as though time were just a dream.

Copyright © 2010, Stephen Lefebure

Seven year microwave sky map created from WMAP data

Image Credit: NASA/WMAP Science Team

Poems by Stephen Lefebure have been detected in corked bottles on random shores. Unrolled carefully, they may smell slightly of old wine. Some have appeared in an anthology called Wild Song, and others have wandered the wilderness of small press publications and literary sites for decades, apparently seeking readership or a place to rest.