Challenger's End
For the seven killed in the Space Shuttle on 28 January, 1986
To other gods, but still A human sacrifice - The proud space-walkers, The seven-stars-in-the-sky Transmuted now to stardust; A burnt offering, not To the One-and-All-Alone Or to Isis or Osiris, But to the idol, Power, To the ideal of Man Creating new elements; A firework spectacular, A second brighter sun, An incandescent eruption Bursting out of the zenith.
Something like this, of course, Was sure to happen sooner Or later — and a mere Seven, Not Millions like those who Were sacrificed to humour The whim of Mars, of Hitler And others who aspired To play the part of God: It was a better plan For God to play Man, For Man to be content In his own element, In the lush sunlit valleys Of Eden, of Arcadia Where green grew the rushes, And ripe cottage-apples Lit up the Tree of Life.
But once he had digested The tart sodom-apples That fell — a greater challenge - From the Tree of Knowledge, Man Found no rest in peaceful days: Apple of discord plucked In frenzy from that Tree Grew like a mad embryo In the brain's dark recesses To erupt as a new species Of Man, ready to sacrifice Not only peace, but life Itself, hoping through victory In the space-race to be
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