Dark may be the universe, all that we see
Only a froth on an ocean of invisible stuff.
But in our field we watch the galaxies of green
Curling in their dessication, hardening to browns,
Their countless seeds carried on the wind
And passing poets, like astronomers,
Standing on the brink of great discoveries.
—with the words of astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson italicized.
