I’m captured by the mysteries of space
Which congregate to tease my human mind
Evolving in it’s search to find my place
Within the scheme of things as they unwind.
There’s something in a vast and starry sky
That conjures up a sense of dejavu
Which feels to me, although I can’t say why,
As if each dawn brings nothing truly new.
To learn is to experience the past.
Discoveries return us to our birth.
The first things hold within themselves the last.
The farthest things have given us the earth.
The instinct of our species is to roam,
To heed the cosmic calling, finding home.
John H. Bidwell
Want to review or comment on this poem?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviews of "Spaced."
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Reviewed on March 25, 2003
Ahhh, John. You do know how to turn a phrase.
Bravo.
~E
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
Bravo.
~E