¨Ï 1983 Don Simpson
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Once there was a Ship of Stone
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That orbited a mighty Star
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And from it flew the First Ship's crew
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Whose children we all are
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And no matter how long we've drawn our track
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Still over our shoulder looking back
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Through the hydrogen's hiss and the methane's moan
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Past the polymer clouds of the Dead Stars' shrouds
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All our roads run back to the Ship of Stone
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There the First Crew all were made
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And wakened from unknowing sleep
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By the boundless sight of Heaven's height
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And the fires of the Deep
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And no matter how strange the forms we wear
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How warped and wild, how rich and rare
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How changed we've made the seed we've sown
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We are blood of those who, singing, rose
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From the body of the Ship of Stone
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And there our own ships' frames were formed
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To grow blue-glowing wings
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And spread them wide to the farthest tide
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Where the last lone beacon sings
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And no matter how tight the net they knot
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Of our web where the Wheel of Light is caught
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How strange and lost, how grand they've grown
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They, too, desire all Heaven's fire
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Our companions since the Ship of Stone
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Once there was a Ship of Stone
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Clear domed, broad hulled and clean
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Where the air shown blue, through whose holds birds flew
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And whose decks were growing green
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And no matter odd these things may seem
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As madly mazed as shards of dream
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They are not a dream that you dream alone
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All ships, all men, are of one kin
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We shall not forget the Ship of Stone.
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Ship of Stone
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| Kathy Mar |
