Suppose it true,
our solitary home a spinning rock,
flung across entirety
at fantastic speed.
I can almost feel the
wind of it,
loose hair much like
a comet-tail of frozen bits
as time
and every precious minute lived,
flows out behind.
This is a dazzling idea,
where
God and love and
power and fortune,
win and lose and
mighty oceans,
taxes and war and
constitutions
mean
nothing.
The proof of paradise
is imagination.
Robert On The Air 