Poetry

The Pride Before, 26 (239.)

Such audacity,
to cradle the stars
in a camera lens
and call it art.
Will any facsimile approach
the splendor of the real?
Technology can be impressive,
personal vision expansive,
but it is always the thing itself
that holds the most power.
Lights in space
sway the most stagnant heart
to adventure,
and sunless depths
call the landlocked
to swim.
Dive, then, beyond each threshold,
and record what you find.
That’s what such audacity is good for:
recording pieces of a story
so we may look at them and,
in time,
call them history.

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