Crooked Timbers Poem by gershon hepner

From crooked timbers Noah built an Ark,
but man’s must be extended, first to soar,
then to descend to plumb what’s deep and dark:
detritus undiscovered on the ocean floor.

The hedgehog cannot see beyond its nose
and lives contented within crooked timbers;
above the waves the fox, more curious, knows
vast vistas lie, concealed by darkest nimbus.

If only we could fuse the genes of foxes
with those of hedgehogs, we could reach the stars,
and, archived, disembark from boxes,
not deluged by the facts we now might parse.


(Inspired by Isaiah Berlin)