Galileo Galilei
Comes to knock and knock again
At a small secluded doorway
In an ordinary brain.
Into light the world is turning,
And the clocks are set for six;
And the chimney pots are smoking,
And the golden candlesticks.
Apple trees are bent and breaking,
And the heat is not the sun’s;
And the Minotaur is waking,
And the streets are cattle runs.
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Galileo Galilei,
In a flowing, scarlet robe,
While the stars go down the river
With the turning, turning globe,
Kneels before the black Madonna
And the angels cluster round
With grave, uplifted faces
Which reflect the shaken ground
And the orchard which is burning,
And the hills which take the light;
And the candles which have melted
On the altars of the night.
Galileo Galilei
Comes to knock and knock again
At a small secluded doorway
In an ordinary brain.
by William Jay Smith
from Poet’s Choice; Time Books, 1962