They tell me in dark skies,
dancing lights in technicolor
shine across the night,
and I believe them; I have seen
the pictures and equations,
studied flows of plasmas through the
not-so-empty void.
Yet one who sees with human eyes
has understanding I
can only hope to one day know, and
when they speak, my science
silent now must stay.

And if my life’s work thus
is bounded by my skin, then what
of the very lives
of those who live in other skin
and walk in other shoes?
And can I take them at their word,
the ones who now must fight
before they fiddle? Ones with dreams
deferred? The dancing hearts
of humans seeing beauty, seeking
They shine across this night.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.