By Dick Eiden
Dick is a writer, attorney, and political activist living in Vista, California. He is the author of Paying the Rent, an autobiographical account of anti-war and civil rights activism in the 1960’s and beyond. The book is available on Amazon. With the current leaps in space exploration, the poem which follows seems particularly timely.
Dick is a writer, attorney, and political activist living in Vista, California. He is the author of Paying the Rent, an autobiographical account of anti-war and civil rights activism in the 1960’s and beyond. The book is available on Amazon. With the current leaps in space exploration, the poem which follows seems particularly timely.
There has been some confusion
| | Does the edge of Earth begin under our dancing feet where seeds break toward light where everything we know is rooted in the five senses we’ve identified so far? Or above Cirrus ice crystals which sit above the clouds leaving only our space junk to litter the outer atmosphere, another possible edge merging as it does with interplanetary nothingness - a relative term of course, and largely untrue like the notion of solid ground or deserts as nothing but hot sand worthless, uncivilized outlands where the Milky Way galaxy spreads itself across the night sky and meteor showers fall into Earth’s fiery embrace while we continue dancing around the edge of what we know |
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