May 6, 2014


I was a child as Apollo thundered to the Moon

star-eyed and wonderstruck that this could be

that I had life now, as dreams were taking flight

am star-eyed and wonderstruck to this very day

at our bold audacity to set foot to Moon dust

riding the fantastic chariot that drove us there

scarce contained tumult hurling metal skyward

sheathed in ice, rising as Phoenix from its pyre

the living dream of people of a hopeless land

silver needle plummeting through the heavens

glorious head of brilliant spear, making light of

haystacks of forlorn hopes and abandoned cares

atop pillars of flame, riding post-apocalyptic roar

for a moment relieving sadnesses of darker days

knights errant embarked upon brave new quest

apex of a vast and mighty pyramid, yet unknown

squires of endless labours rode the skies as well

in spirit join explorers of this vast new ocean

rejoicing each new steps triumph to the world

lending wing and wind tossed coat tail to all

Prometheus flies, returning flame to Olympus

whence came this dream, this gloried hope

that for the decade held us, holds us even now

the dream denying dawn despite noonday sun

and I, no longer child, hear yet upon the wind

the thunderous roar of dreams taking wing


I was a Child when Apollo
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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