A Canticle for the Heavenly Realms
Realms of Heaven, star spangled glory—
Fantastic hosts of long lost lore—
Tangent pinpricks tell the story
Of life upon a foreign shore.
Ghosts of glory, they do abide
In unearthly dens, in the sky.
With wings like angels, they do glide,
In fiery chariots on high.
They do sing with voices of thunder,
Throwing planets wild, asunder,
Unaware of inspired wonder.
What might have they, these starry host?
Their chorus rises with the tide
Of which they sing, as if to boast?
Who conducts them, who is their guide?
Of this I question, here on Earth.
I long to know, one solution:
The world of theirs, their place of birth,
Where is their place of evolution?