You Can See It From Space - April 23 2022

 

You Can See It From Space

April 23 2022

You can see it from space

is what they say

about The Great Wall.

The vast tapestry

of cultivated land

and deforestation

in shades of green and brown.

The show of lights

covering the planet

like a diamond encrusted bauble;

brightly lit cities

connected

by intricate skeins of light,

and the few dark patches

we have yet to occupy.

The lightning

flashing over the surface

in a non-stop display

I would never have expected.

That makes this blue and green planet

we call home

seem alien,

as if the earth was alive

and electrified

and hostile to life.

But so much that goes unseen;

too small, or immaterial

to notice.

The microscopic creatures.

Underground, or out at sea.

The inner lives

of you and me;

the suffering

and ecstasy

and stoical endurance.

And looking down

from low earth orbit,

the alarmingly thin sliver of air

that protects us from space.

Invisible, to us

beneath its warm sustaining cover.

And looking the other way

what can only be seen

by astronauts looking up.

The black void

of outer space

with its infinite succession of stars;

hard pinpoints of light

that keep on appearing

the longer you look.

That even during daylight

can all be seen,

a stunning halo of glitter

surrounding the sun

like a richly jewelled crown.

I encountered that expression, used in the clever but rather cliched way we often refer to something that's tastelessly large, or overvalued. But an expression that is also used literally, usually in relation to man-made objects: sometimes impressed, and sometimes with alarm. This poem can be seen both ways, depending on how you view our presence here. Are we colonizers and despoilers? Or are we brilliant builders with the power to alter a planet?

As the idea for this was forming, I thought I saw some lightning, which immediately brought to mind that surprising image as seen from the space station. Not man's work, but the power of nature. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gyUKAXRMj0)

The poem concludes by also looking the other way. This is something I hadn't been aware of until recently: how, when there is no atmosphere to distort the view, you can see every star splashed across the black background of outer space, even when the sun is fully visible. The atmosphere is the only reason we don't see stars during the day, alongside a fully illuminated sun.

Because the poem is mostly descriptive, with no real narrative cohesion,I was hoping that the call-back that ends the poem would help cinch it tight: the richly jewelled crown echoing the diamond encrusted bauble.