A small electric light behind me,
a merest proton echo of the sun--
and so my shadow leads me,
but I am in the way of where
I ought to go, as I move down
a corridor at midnight, fretting.
It's almost day now
and nearly when Earth spins
around to get out of its way,
and lets the Big Light bring
its rays to nourish everything
that grows and every mind that knows,
and every mind should want to know.
Oh, come now, all of us and everyone
with our tiny twisted prejudice, our petty
staggering away from proven ways to know,
our sad attachments to cold cadaverous
puppeteers: Let's at long last get
out of our own way. Let's not block
the light that lets us know that we
and every other human are essentially
the same on this our spinning planet.
That we are "the people," and no other.
hans ostrom
