A universe of unmapped grief and love
And new master light is beyond
The pleiades and plow and southern stars.
O soaring
Icarus of outworld, burn bright
The traceries of known skymarks,
Slide the highway planets behind
Your clear waxed wings.
Go conquer the everywhere left
Beyond your sad confinement
In a predicted bonehouse,
Witch thrown riddle of flesh
And water.
O soar until nothing
remains but great glittering holes
In the black godspun shirt over your head.
- John Fairfax