Word

Varifrank finds something beautiful - a recent poem by Ray Bradbury. Yes, that Ray Bradbury, who I'm ashamed to admit I thought was dead.

Anyway, it's really quite good, and I love the theme. Here's a bit:

We are the dream that other people dream.
The land where other people land
When late at night
They think on flight
And, flying, here arrive
Where we fools dumbly thrive ourselves.

Refuse to see
We be what all the world would like to be.
Because we hive within this scheme
The obvious dream is blind to us.
We do not mind the miracle we are,
So stop our mouths with curses.
While all the world rehearses
Coming here to stay.
We busily make plans to go away.