POETRY

Johannes Kepler contemplates murder

by Daniel Wright

He was a perfect tallyman: his eyes
caught every star's and every planet's rise,
but how could I be merely his assistant?
He closed the books I needed to surmise
God's laws to me. Can man be too persistent
seeking God? So Mercury, though distant,
when called came to my aid, and Tycho died.
I found God in his books, but some resistant

force, some hidden focus drew me wide
when I came near the light. A Light alive!
that Tycho knew, but I who never leapt
myself into the sky was locked outside.

And still he rules me through the books he kept,
and still I sweep the same dead stars he swept.