down below, below Earth's clouds
taking away joy of her countenance,
as from child done wrong, lies all
of our lying family history,
in dust there and only there
are all ancestors back to N^N great-father jelly:
this astronaut leaves like soul leaving
all treasures of the body going
skinless into last darkness, everlasting night:
like Falstaff he feels like falling
to babbling of green fields and then
suddenly in emptiness he sees
as mirage perfect ahead and all around
plants orbiting nothing vast as sails
and on before him as he goes
weed battles weed to surround whole suns
in battle for survival can end only
with onset of last and universal
winter and now he knows
where and what Eden Garden
really is and was
Sargasso of Outwhere and he
goes - not leaves -
Home where All began
to his still-radiating
Eve of Serpent Nebula.

This poem has previously appeared in XIZQUIL #12, '94, USA.