Jay Brecker

 

 

St. Lucy’s Telescope

After a time I began to feel faint

from the hours spent to make an inference.

Nothing I saw made any difference

observing heaven like slow drying paint.

I tin-whistled prayers without constraint

to spare my life from trivial existence,

use my meager tools beyond subsistence,

and dodge being blinded like a young saint.

My sight turned inward to seek enchantment

unlike modern Science searching the sky

with high energy rays beyond the pale.

Could spectral revolution enhancement,

no matter the spheres it would verify,

see the sweet, sad longing beneath.