WITHIN

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.