Poetry

Columbia

On that day, debris rained from the sky.
Fragments of the skeletons of our creation,
Torn by the force of our ambition,
Came tumbling hotly down, like wax from the sun.
What we thought in the days to come,
Amid the questions of what if and why,
Was that it was too soon after our Towers
Like that of Babel, were brought low.
We struggled to understand the cost of our intrepidness
Measured in Billions, or in thousands, or in seven.
We sought these reasons for dying.

I look skyward, trying to fathom the infinite blue,
Unmarred by clouds. Failing in my vain attempt,
I find therein only beauty and promise and dreams.
I think that Icarus broken and Daedalus weeping
Could not together pool an ounce of regret
For wanting to know all of Creation.
We were born wanting castles in the sky,
And we built symbols of strength and unity
Even as we felt our own division and weakness,
Knowing that our feats would only bring us more to admire.
We each seek these reasons for living.