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Once there were new eyes                                                                                                                       That answered time with flashes                                                                                                            And always knew why.

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Gasping, we held ourselves at last erect.                                                                                              “Behold!” said one of the Angels. “What mortals are these                                                            Who have turned their eyes to the heavens?”                                                                                    “We who have loved until we know of nothing else.”                                                                        The words were strong in our hearts and resounded                                                                               without being spoken.

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DRESSED IN OUR

MOST PLEASANT ARCHITECTURE,

WE SCANNED THE EMPIRE AND WE GAVE IT LIFE.

IT IS OURS;   WE ARE SO BOLD.

WE SMILED AND WAVED AND REPORTED

TO EACH OTHER.

ANOTHER BRILLIANT DAY’S WORK, WE SAID.

MARVELLING AT WHAT WE HAD WROUGHT,

OVERWHELMED BY OUR POWERFUL POSSESSIONS,

WE PATTED OUR BACKS

AND SHOOK OUR HANDS

AND MADE OUR WAYS TO BED.

DREAMING OF ANCIENT HONORS,

DREAMING OF DREAMED OF NATIONS,

WHEN AVID JOURNALISTS,

WHEN TIRED HISTORIANS,

WOULD TELL OF THE MACHINATIONS

OF THE MIGHTY,

WE, IT WAS, THEY WOULD WRITE,

WE WERE THE ONES WHO LED.

AT LONG LAST, COMING OF AGE,

THE AGE OF MANKIND

GLANCED OVER ITS SHOULDER

AT A FILIBUSTER DISCARDED IN THE WEEDS.