Ticking off the ages like a shining blue chronometer,
fifteen degrees per hour turns a world
against the velvet distance
Facing the sun,
then more distant stars,
then back to the sun, once every twenty-four.

Six million, quadrillion tonnes of iron, of silicon,
of unknowing elements, a silent sphere
covered with life, with blue skies,
with the dreams of children and the fears of their parents,
and the fears of children and the dreams of their parents,
The voices of prophets, the sound of battle,
the music of weddings, the nearly imperceptible swish
of an artist's brush against the canvas.

"Look at the stars, how full of meaning they are!
How they tell the stories we make up for them,
how they reflect what we see if we look inside."
The firmament pays no heed; there are so many worlds,
all caught in the web of mutual attraction against velocity.

Eternity brushes here, there,
stippling darkness with light, with creation, destruction,
living highlights stand out against the simplest background.
"Look at the stars,
look at the chidren, playing under the tree,
how similar they are"

We believe it is possible,
We believe it can be
suspending jaded cynicism just long enough,
"Peace on Earth, and Good Will to Men"