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