III

The clearing: all before you lie

A field of wild flowers, a slope

Down to cliffs pitching into

The Sea, and, further off, eight

Thousand miles away, the coasts

Of Terrae Incognitae.

Unknown too,

You catalog the flowers: Seaside

And Plume Goldenrod, Pickerelweed,

The Meadowsweet, Hardhack, the

Wrinkled Rugosa Rose, Aster, Orange

Indian Paintbrush, Strawberries, Fern,

Thyme, Oxeye Daisies -- weeds

Born millions of years ago. You are

A guest here, your line, newcomers;

But their age nothing to the age

Of the light that warms them.

You sit on the granite cliff

While the setting sun describes

A grand spectrophotometric curve:

Orange, Yellow, Red on Orange

Orange, Wine, Grey on Plum -Yellow

and Violet on Rose --

Green and Tangerine on Red --

Red and Pink on Pink -- Four

Reds -- Black on Dark Maroon --Black

on Grey -- Black on Grey,

Venus, solo, glittering in the sky,

Her stream rippling in the Bay.

And, then, the stars. Away

From city lights, in the North

North, the bright Milky Way, the right

Arm of the galaxy, tells you

Who you are -- The Astronomer,

Laplace said. Awe, wonder;

Mysteries, lost and safe

In the bosom of the universe

Where you could go to sleep.