The Wind From The Sun

THE WIND

The wind from the sun buffets the worlds.

It streams over the lavas of Caloris;

It presses fiery fingers into Cytherean storms.

Here, over Peary Land its shimmering curtains

Dance in the dark when the great bears

And the Great Bear shiver in the night.

Into Imbrium’s dust it throws its ions,

Sweeping on to bombard defenceless Tharsis

And the unplumbed Valley of the Mariner.

About The King it places twin circlets

And around His aged father too.

The wind is fading now as it sweeps

Past the far Frost Giants and across

The dim Styx and its Ferryman.

At last, in the silent darkness

The wind flutters and dies; fades and falls.

But there in the depths of endless night

For a moment it meets other winds

And listens lovingly to their tales.