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by Gary Beck


Who are we, that with deathless words
should sing of visions we invent.
Had we the wisdom that we presume,
we would be silent, awed by our finity,
but as church voices chant a prayer
to someone who is, or is not there,
we too shall hymn ascensions.
We are motes in the universe,
whose fleeting moments quite reverse
the magnitude of exile
upon our boasted speck,
remote from other life forms,
orbiting with other specks,
that find us bold sailors,
embarked on vast journeys.

* * *

Gary Beck’s poetry has appeared in dozens of literary magazines. His recent fiction has been published in numerous literary magazines. His chapbook 'The Conquest of Somalia' will be published by Cervena Barva Press. His plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes, and Sophocles have been produced Off-Broadway.

What advice do you have for other writers?

Keep writing.