The Great Peace
It is a fiction to divide the arts and
sciences, for both are two sides of the same coin, and both must work to be
conduits of enlightenment to humankind. Dedicated to Nadya.
I stand upon
the calm and sunny edge
of ocean, where
continent of sea meets
its complement
in land, the waters lightly
lapping upon
the sandy gravel. The little
waves are
pushed by light, delightful breeze
cooling and
refreshing in the sun, playing
about my face
and hair with cheerful chase.
But I feel this
one breath as if speak with
double force,
one slower and more constant,
the second
faster and more variant, and as
they whip about
me in sweet dance, I stand
as if mast and
hull and spread my mind as sail
upon the sea
far beyond the reach of eye.
There both are
magnified to dread or
powerful wind,
and they seem to toss
the tiny skiff,
as if one in jest and other
in direction of
far-off land, as if in contest
of command over
this particle of life. One
is history and
humanity, shaped by past,
known, unknown,
yet fixed in stone,
one course and
one pilot preferring
through
journey. The second is science
and sphere of
nature, so changing and
untamed as if
violent, demanding five
attendants by
vastness of fickleness.
Thus one pushes
port and second sucks
starboard, as
they race in endless circle,
the slower lost
by swifter long ago.
Skipper stays
in desperate calm, tense
with coming
clash of force unstoppable
and object
immovable – a dreadful squall
to wipe him and
ship into the ocean sea.
Crew and
captain surrender to divine
lieutenants,
hoping that obedient humility
to what seems
chance with interest invoke
upon these
awesome breaths. Strange,
as if they mind
in spirit had, the faster
caught the
slower far ahead, trodding
past where the
swifter would walk
corrected, and
they made peace
with each
other, seeing true trek
of first and
swiftness of the second.
Thus mixing
two, they wheeled back
to ship
abandoned, enticed by frail
and almost
false concord, as man
of letters and
man of science hid
in fear and
hostility by danger
tempered. And
coming with light
step, one to
push the raffee, one
to guide the
keel, as if two hands
together
touched the helm with ease,
the men forgot
their tiny excellence
in ignorance of
this new science and art,
which traced so
far and daring loxodrome
upon the
unknown globe of blue fields.
Both sat as
scribe and judge, as mate
alongside
wheel: all had right to sacred
quarterdeck as
pupils of Lord’s angel,
sent at last to
exchange the talents
hoarded by
greed and selfish comfort
that to
darkness threw the Earth so long
ago commanded
to be crawled upon and
wondered. Thus
again reduced to student
they matched
and conquered themselves,
scientist-artist,
artist-scientist: gentlemen all.
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