WITHIN
Within the vastness
of the galaxy,
Within the
spiralled, shining crowds of stars,
Is seen this one:
the blazing gold-white sun.
Within its radiant
influence is found
A blue-white world
with cloud and gleaming seas.
And on this world a
large, dry-hearted land
Holds green coasts,
brown plains, age-worn mountains.
And on one coast
there is a sprawling city
With tall, grey
buildings spread out by the harbour,
With suburbs, grey
roads, houses, trees and cars.
And in one suburb
there's a street-marked hill
With letter-boxes,
streetlights, dogs and gardens.
And on this hill
there is a small, white house,
And in that house
there is a small, square room,
With white walls,
books, and bed, and lamp, and slippers,
And sitting on this
bed a thoughtful man
Who holds the biro
writing out these lines.
The pen is in my
hand,
And I sit on the bed
The bed is in the
room,
The room is in the
house,
The house is by the
street,
The street is in the
city,
The city's on the
land,
The land's within
the world,
The world within the
benefice of that
One blazing sun
within the crowds of stars,
A spiralled, shining
crowds of stars within
The far, far reaches
of the galaxy.
