The Old Astronomer Poem by Daniel Brick
The Old Astronomer
I wonder about the old astronomer.
Does he recall the heady days of
his youth following his unveiling
of one of the Universe's secrets?
A new star system. A cluster of
Earth-like planets. The dispersal
of an occluding gas cloud. Does he
page through a new astronomy textbook
to see how his discovery factors
into the total edifice of science?
Or does the thing discovered occupy
the whole stage in the textbook?
He might be nodding in assent
at this very moment. Yes, that's
as it should be. We transient
observers are not the issue. It is
this superabundant vast panoply of
matter and energy that takes our
breath away and then restores it
as new things become familiar things.
The astronomer's still nimble eyes
widen as he contemplates yet again
a cosmic drama that both dwarfs
and inflates us. For a long time,
he smiles a 21st century smile:
Oh, the irony of that smile,
sustained by our prideful knowledge
of things. In another two hundred
years, that same smile will crease
the features of one of his descendants,
as yet more darkness is suffused in light.
We will ever stand on shifting ground,
he concludes. Never fully certain of our
balance, we live and thrive on the unsteady
ground of perpetual discovery. Were it not
for my vanity, I'd be constantly dizzy,
leaning left, then right, then left...
Enough of these thoughts! Tonight Ruth and I
will listen side by side to THE MAGIC FLUTE,
and we will feel the bedrock of a thirty-year
marriage... And thus the mind that conceives
quasars and black holes and multiverses grows
calm, its quest for knowledge stilled.
I have refrained from commenting on your poems, largely because I barely make out their meanings enough to do so.. But with this one I felt a tremendous need to comment here because I had a few things to say and a few questions to ask.. First of all, as Pamela said it has indeed a sense of Eliot like sense to it, and the ending reminded me of Arnold's 'Dover Beach'.. Secondly, what I really loved about this poem is the fact that perhaps you wanted to showcase that despite all our major discoveres as humankind as a whole, it is the basic human values of love and affection that are of more importance than any technological achievements and scientific discoveries, for they perhaps mean nothing if they really don't allow us a grow as human beings.. It also struck me that maybe the poem also suggested that while there might be a thousands of discoveries, those never hold our imagination and fascinate us for years along like LOVE and basic human values do... Really loved these parts of your poem.. I may be wrong, but that is how I read it.. Finally, I want to ask you a question - 'Why the astronomer? ' - is it because whatever he/she discovers is so far away from us in physical terms that if has no real values for a common human being? Or is it because, in a way, that I felt that the astronomer is more of a metaphor of a discoverer, who discovers things, devoting his life into it, but never get the chance perhaps to have a companion and listen to the 'THE MAGIC FLUTE'? - - Chasing after knowledge and the unknown, he loses the security and the beauty of the known?
I don't really know what to say except that I find this poem to be enchanting and provoking. I think I need to reflect on this some more, but it hit something inside me. Beautiful. Thank you!
While we wonder about the wonders in the sky we are humbled, no matter how much we know. We will never uncover the mystery of the world around us, perhaps humbly confess, God is great! We retire to enjoy the serenity of listening to the flute played.
I dreamt about this poem last night and the poem 'Imagine' by Frosini and a poem by Kelly Kurt about Black holes and how human kind happened to exist and create time. All of these poems came together for me in an important way..... They were all written uniquely but with a unifying theme of Why Are We Here? What makes us special? Does it all Matter? ..... Three very distinct poets and very distinct poems. Loved it!
I can see as far as I do because I am standing on the shoulders of giants. I am certain that in 20 years, let alone 200, what will be 'known' will be humbling. Especially to an old astronomer. (Or physicist, doctor, etc.) But they will probably still be playing the magic flute.
I wholly agree with you on both counts, Kelly: that our knowledge of the physical universe will expand and fill us with awe, but that the art with which we enhance our human lives and make them beautiful will last forever. THE MAGIC FLUTE IS SYMBOLIC FOR SO MANY SUCH WORKS.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:30:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
WOW...you did it again! I love the energy conveyed in these poems. The image of the OLD Astronomer....I love the concept of ever standing on shifting ground and the cosmic drama' that both dwards and inflates us, ' and finally, Ruth and I will listen side by side to THE MAGIC FLUTE, and we will feel the bedrock of a 30 year marriage..... then the ending...stilled. The poem begins with a bang and ends with a whimper...no....just stillness, quiet....time for sleep.....(shifting and movement...an ever moving universe sustained and rooted with humanness....(is that a word?)
HUMANNESS is a word now because you made it so! I wrote this poem in my uncle's bank. He was discussing his accounts with a banker. I sat in the lobby and the image of an old astronomer in my mind grew into a spontaneous poem. It's that metaphor of flowering, of one thing coming forth from its predecessor, links in a chain. I so appreciate our exchanges, they flower too.