Space--thy boundaries are Time and time alone.
No earth-born rocket, seedling skyward sown,
Will ever reach your cold, infinite end,
This power is not Man's to build or send.
Great deities laugh down, venting their mirth,
At struggling bipeds on a cloud-wrapped Earth,
Chained solid on a war-swept, waning globe,
For FATE, who witnesses, to pry and probe.
BUT LIST! One weapon have I stronger yet!
Prepare Infinity! And Gods regret! Thought, quick as light, shall pierce the veil,
To reach the lost beginnings Holy Grail.
Across the sullen void on soundless trail,
Where new spawned suns and chilling planets wail,
One thought shall travel midst the gods' playthings,
Past cindered globes where choking flame still sings.
No wall of force yet have ye firmly wrought,
That chains the supreme strength of purest thought.
Unleashed, without a body's slacking hold, Thought leaves the ancient Earth behind to mold.
And when the galaxies have heeded DEATH,
And welcomed lastly SPACE'S poisoned breath,
Still shall thought travel as an arrow flown.
SPACE--thy boundaries are TIME---AND TIME ALONE!
FAMOUS LAST WORDS:
"But, Mr. Smith, how do you explain that gyro-statistic-electromagnetiosonomonator on the radiostuntomotor?"
"CLUNK!"
RETURN ADDRESS:
Futuria Fantasia,
A SCIENCE CIRCLE PUB.
1841 S. MANHATTAN PL.
Los Angeles, Calif.