...shall I choose the wings of Dawn for my flight...
Cantata "Ich armer Mensch, ich Sünenknect" J.S.bach BWV 55
Dawn! Look, the ardent sun is rising,
Rising over West Newton street and the corridor;
Rising in the East, or at least seems to be so.
But you perhaps remember that it is we,
And with us this delicate, nacreous sky,
Pearl, mother of pearl, mother of us all,
We with our lungs, and with our fragile,
Our mysterious and powerful air,
We are rising as we spin, hurtling
Through the dark and starry void.
We are spinning on our wobbly axis
Like the top of some giant child.
Whirling so fast he couldn't even see us
As we crawl across the South West Corridor Park.
How rident would be that child's laugh-
And perhaps at our expense as we swarm
In our self absorbed festering across this globe;
As we trace our frantic orbit, spinning on our way.
Spinning, and West Newton Street
has just rushed to edge of light
Where the warm and the vibrant;
Where the massively energetic orb
Is glimmering into view to gild this August day.
And that man, do you see him there?
He is spinning at 1000 miles per hour
While being thrown through the track of our orbit
At sixty seven times that speed, and he is walking;
Being late for work he's charging at perhaps
Six miles per hour; my goodness!
What must the addition of his velocity be?
And he is still determinedly upright.
And what is stranger, he doesn't even notice!