Not from this present sphere my rhapsody comes,
But beckons from that orb celestial;
For here lies no silent city clothed with orderliness,
Only an uncertain vaporous hope,
Which rises like a crescendo on the potent tide,
Then into fragile hopelessness dissipates.
It borders on the paradoxical,
With its ethereal presence lingering.
Again and again we visit this brink
And return with unfruitful baskets-
But yet some gleaming hope lurks within
The heaving breasts of the resolutely strong,
Who won't be fazed by the darkened cloud,
But steadfastly gaze upon the silver lining.
ENOCH JOHN
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/celestial-orb/
