The earth is my friend, and all that goes
Upon its face is sacred truth.
Mother of all that lives, that grows.
Behold the cradle of our youth!
The stars beyond ensnare our eye
In search of hidden worlds, we stare,
Minds stretching out against the sky,
Unfolding blossoms, dark and fair.
What is it that we seek to find
In other worlds? What strange retreat
Does man pursue by force of mind?
What wisdom does he hope to meet?
The earth inclines its silent head
And I will sleep within her hair.
While others go where eagles dread,
Yet I will gladly tarry here.
Let others strive and die for glory,
Others travel parts unknown.
I'll stay behind to write their story,
Tend my deepest thoughts at home.
Oh Earth, you sad, endearing mother.
To leave for me is but to die.
The black of space is death, my brother.
Life goes at odds beyond our sky,
For other worlds are bleak and stony.
Others roil with melting heat,
And others far removed are only
Clouds composed of toxic sleet.
Who knows what worlds beyond our star,
May teem, like ours, with sentience,
But still the nearest must be far,
Light-years of primal emptiness.
But go forth, man, and conquer space.
Build new worlds orbiting our old.
May your enterprise advance our race,
Secure new heights to have and hold.
Still I, less bold, will stay behind
And craft my worlds in webs of thought.
What's here is feast enough, I find.
The earth is my friend; I shall not want.
George Chadderdon © 1996