Sunday, September 23, 2007

Seeing Stars

I just heard a statistic that breaks my heart: Because of light pollution, only one in five persons alive today has ever seen the Milky Way.

No wonder we seem to have lost our way. Our ancient connection with the night sky is broken. I can't imagine having never experienced the overarching awe of lying on my back in the grass and watching the stars wheel overhead, realizing just how small I really am in comparison to the inifinity of the stars -- and yet how special I am to witness such glory.

All of this brought to mind one of my mom's favorite poems. Enjoy.

The Old Astronomer to His Pupil

Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet,
When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;
He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how
We are working to completion, working on from then to now.
Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,
Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet,
And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true,
And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you.
But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn,
You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn,
What for us are all distractions of men's fellowship and smiles;
What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles!
You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late,
But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant's fate.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

Sarah Williams

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