Mars Draws Near

by Don Webb

Do you know where now or in what lands
Are the voices that sang of vibrant Mars?
Of slender spires on iron-red sands
And canals, night-necklaces with stars?
They sang of visions that once seemed clear.
Who sings of the Mars of yesteryear?

Does sadness tinge new Eden’s rainbows
Or the sin-abrading void of space?
Close now, does Mars now close
Its alien, inviting face?
Today we hear triumphant fear.
Who hears the Mars of yesteryear?

Man, covet not the power of stones
Nor jails, nor ruins. Mars draws near.
It once gave flesh to now-dry bones:
Return to the Mars of yesteryear.

Copyright © 2003 by Don Webb