When the World Grew Wings - Part 1

There once came a day when the world took flight ('twas only a handful who gaped at the sight) For when she spread her wings so few could believe; and fewer still could keep alive the dream, that had awakened for all to see. Galileo Galilei took center stage, as we flipped through yet another page of shocking discovery. But poor Gally, took to fame, an a pedestal so lonely; and far from raising eyebrows only, questions also, were being raised. Like what happened to her perch when she flew across the star laden sky? Did not everyone's heart give a lurch as we kissed that lovely fowl goodbye? No longer a disc with perilous edges that sat lackadaisically on God's thumb. She instead became a turquoise marble dancing circles around the sun. Without a single drop to spritz Saturn, she held her oceans marvelously intact. Though quite unknowingly, in performance all along. Einstein, nonetheless, dissected the task. Copernicus and his daring gang were all the rage, but it wasn't kind to the long-dried ink of a holy page. For you see, when this our humble home took wings, rather than elated - the world became sore afraid, exclaiming, "Who let her loose? I'll have his head in a noose!" And rather than let her try her feathers, they kept Earth in a cage (Maya Angelou, God rest her soul, would be dismayed) For five centuries prior so few could admire how beautifully she flew beyond heaven's blue! Nietzsche grabbed a shovel and began to dig. Others tagged along and said, "Make it double!" As the world gained a freedom it ne'er had before (but who could have known what was in store?) Far beyond the wars, that ensued shortly after that disco ball was plucked from the rafters of God's domain. (some dared to claim that disco wasn't the only thing gasping for breath). As the doubts began to linger of magic and her validity; we spewed words of such acidity, for no longer a yo-yo tied to a deity's finger, we reclaimed our rightful crowns with rigor, taking back the earth for ourselves (that beautiful globe upon the shelf) Who cut the string? and who clipped her wings? (the wings, that is, of my heart in mourning for my Everything) Why when she flew, did she leave me feeling blue? Finding out her annual circuit I ask, was it worth it, when tied to her leg was a World-view in which my heart was glued? (continued in Part 2) NOTE: This poem was originally split into two parts due to character limit restrictions. After becoming a Member I've edited Part 2 to include the ENTIRE poem. I still keep this post, however, just because I don't want to delete people's comments ...