In pathless blackness of deepest space,
A Vagabond drifts
Dreaming of sun and sea left far behind
Somewhere wails a mad loon;
Somewhere a lonely lover awaits the moon
Somewhere, on pedestals of twisted brass,
White peacocks dream but here, alone among the stars,
Is bloodbrother of all drifting things
The red sun saw him rise: A needle of steel against
A silver-blue sky. Here,alone among the spinning stars,
Is there memory of Earth? The wealths of sight
The treasures that money-blind men overlook?
But Treasure Found is somehow less than Treasure Sought
And man will always seek Beyond, for Somewhere Else
The Promised Land?
Where Taste, Touch, Hearing, Scent and Sight
Will seek new harmonies and chords
To play the Song of man's Delight
Conquest! And The Stars!
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