In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for EuropaArching under the night sky inkywith black expansiveness, we pointto the planets we know, wepin quick wishes on stars. From earth,we read the sky as if it is an unerring bookof the universe, expert and evident.Still, there are mysteries below our sky:the whale song, the songbird singingits call in the bough of a wind-shaken tree.We are creatures of constant awe,curious at beauty, at leaf and blossom,at grief and pleasure, sun and shadow.And it is not darkness that unites us,not the cold distance of space, butthe offering of water, each drop of rain,each rivulet, each pulse, each vein.O second moon, we, too, are madeof water, of vast and beckoning seas.We, too, are made of wonders, of greatand ordinary loves, of small invisible worlds,of a need to call out through the dark.
WRITTEN BY U.S. POET LAUREATE: Ada Limón
