I was fortunate this morning to find a new episode of “An Athiest’s Prayer” (by John and Jana Remy) on my iPod for my morning bike ride to work (thanks for the shout out, btw!!!).
During the devotional, a poem was read that struck me as quite inspirational. I’ll share it here, but please go listen to the podcast and let the Remys know how cool they are.
The Young Galileo Speaks
By Ray Bradbury
O child, they said, avert your eyes
Avert my eyes, I said, what, from wild skies
Where stars apear and wheel,
And fill my heart and make me feel
As if this night, and then another, and another
I might live forever, and not die?
Turn off my gaze, shut off my will and soul from this,
This fiery bliss and joy that tempts me to go forth
At 2 am and lie upon the lawn?
A boy alone with Universe
Where song and verse of God lie overhead
For me to read and know and sing,
Not know all this, go blind?
Why, God minds me to be so
He put the bright sparks in my blood
Which spirit, lighten, flare and frighten me to love.
Small sparks, large Sun,
All one, they are the same,
Large flame or small
I know and keep it all in eye, in heart, in mind.
The flavour of the night lies on my tongue
I speak it so,
That others, uninviting of themselves
Abed, not brave, may know,
What this boy knows, and will forever know.
The Universe is thronged with fire and light
And we but smaller suns
Which, skinned and trapped and kept
Enshrined in blood and precious bones
Hold back the night.
Very nice. Thank you for sharing that.
Galileo’s story of his discovery and his relationship to the church inspires me. I’m saddened that he had to bow to the church (but I can understand why, with the threat of the Inquisition), but history has vindicated his wonder.
I wish that churches weren’t always so eager to tell us to “avert our eyes.” There’s risk in turning our gaze on the mysterious heavens–the risk of despair and loneliness, but as with all great risks, there is the potential of great reward!
John Remy speaks like a poet.