He passed the gate today.
Neil Armstrong soared and we followed, when we could
though so many cage ourselves in
rather than see what might lie beyond.
I didn't see the moon or the earth as he did
a fragile blue-green dot peeping through the starry black
or maybe I do since we learned
(some of us)
that the universe is much bigger than a few hairless apes.
We can peer through the bars.
We can see the birds
still attached by gravity but able to, for a while, leap and cavort.
Maybe that's what he did: allowed our spirits to fly
even though we know the inevitable.
Do you know what field expands on the other side?
What lingers in the fog?
When will we be brave enough to close our predictions
pass through the gate
and let the cool, green scent of grass guide us?
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