Out that night on the mountain trail
days from the city’s glow,
Stretched out under the open sky, while
stars fell and satellites circled;
The depths of the heavens overwhelmed,
as orbs long dead heaved waning light.
My heart, as Hopkins, bred dark heaven’s baffling ban,
for I too am a stranger here;
Yet I, know of my fountain’s birth. And I as son, an heir
of all He hath,
Will one day return
from once I sprang.