Honest Jim

Some just see the stars
as spots on their glasses,
each night circling the passes
huddled over a chart.
Trusting all they've marked;
when new wisdom clashes,
they'll waver on which to discard.

Stuck on sheets and pens,
building no trial models,
numbers point and they follow,
feelers inching ahead.
They watched as we wobbled
down rocky dead ends,
our best hunches toppled again!

Surveying the seabed
from glass-bottom boats,
they cautiously hope not to drown.
We take in a deep breath
to splash in the moat,
and raise up our scopes from the ground.

No one seized the well
or snuck uninvited;
methods just prove short-sighted,
fortunes unfairly dealt.
The day's work suffices,
we shape nothing else.
The rest is for time to tell!

Clouds shall be seeded
and whirlwinds contained,
when men lose all faith in their dance.
Gouged by the seasons
or felled in a day,
a pillar's erased from the past.

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