how many of us have gazed into the depths
of that eternal furnace,
penetrating the blue void
and the clouds,
searching for a god to save us:
Christ,
Ra,
Belenos
or Apollo…
yes, it would be grand to steal a cupful
of the sun.
and for a moment
pervert the purity of it
to shape it
to our engineering.
we have tried to control the atom,
but have failed to fashion anything worthy
of total
demonstration.
it would seem that to our end we are confined to this planet:
lost,
desperate
and staring into space…
and this night,
as I play an old record,
I sweat the desire to be a
god.
you may, in your boredom, try to deny
your desire for this.
and in your short days you may try to deny
that you have longed to take control
of your existence.
yet, it would be grand, you see,
as Bradbury wrote:
to steal a cupful
of the sun.