Within the vast Sahara of the sky,
the endless star-sand waste of outer space,
there is a sole oasis. You and I
inhabit this uniquely privileged place.
Here—here alone—the dance of night and day
sedately swings without a lurch or lean.
Here—only—life’s impossible array
of elements decided to convene.

God hung a stony gray globe in our sight
beneath the shining desert overhead,
to signal us that all out there is dead,
that we alone reside with life and light:
that stars and satellites are poor and bare
while our inheritance is rich and rare.