THREE SONNETS ON THE THEME OF SPACE FLIGHT

I

TO SUPERSTITION, IN HER GUISE AS THE MOON GODDESS

by Alfred D. Byrd

When men knew not what did thy flight allow,

Or why thy silvery light would sometimes shine

And elsewhen not, men prayed, O Moon, that thou

Wouldst grant them blessings by thy power divine;

And for thy gifts they sacrificed to thee

The blood of innocents. The young of beasts

Or, better, virgin maids from blemish free

Provided thee, Night's goddess, nightly feasts.

Wert thou, Diana, with such worship pleased?

No more to thee such worship shall be given,

For man the power to reach thy sphere has seized

And from thy nature mystery has riven.

The noblest triumph of the human race

Has been to stand upon thy rocky face.

09-27-1982

II

QUESTIONS OF OTHERNESS

by Alfred D. Byrd

We gaze across the endless sea of space

And wonder whether on some distant shore

Strange senses shaped by their unearthly place

Turn outward with the longing to explore.

Do they, like us, desire to know the dreams

That other minds have dreamed and then made real?

Could we and they, conjoined, conceive new themes

That neither race, apart, could know or feel?

Will we set sail to them, or they to us,

To meet in peace as strangers, then as friends,

Those who, despite their contrasts, can discuss

Our strangeness as a gap our dream transcends?

Our peoples will not know until one roams

The sea of space to seek the other's homes.

01-09-1990

THE HEIGHTS ONCE GAINED

by Alfred D. Byrd

When we were young and filled with lofty dreams,

We thought that time would yield us our desire;

We had not heard the three men's dying screams,

Or seen the seven's fall on wings of fire.

We saw a plan that targeted a goal

And led us step by step to its achievement;

We saw the starting steps towards the whole

And gave no thought to possible bereavement.

Apollo, though, shanghaied us to the Moon

Before we could do more than stop and fly,

And Skylab and the Shuttle came too soon

To meet the needs that patience could supply.

Our dreams may perish from a lack of vision

And from the budget-cutter's swift rescission.

04-11-1996

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