TENsion fills the cabin of
the sleek and mighty beast,
crouching on the concrete pad,
yearning for the East.
NINEty years ago at Kittyhawk
flying first began;
one giant leap for all mankind,
one small step for a man.
EIGHTeen stories in the air,
dwarfing mortal men;
belly gorged with frigid LOX
and liquid hydrogen.
SEVEN heroes first were chosen,
seven blazed the trail;
Challenger martyrs keep us humble,
lest again we fail.
SIXty-nine we reached the peak,
men on moon did strut;
now we watch our Freedom shrink
with each budget cut.
FIVE gulls glide on gentle breeze
across the peaceful scene;
while relays close and motors rev,
clockworks mesh unseen.
FOUR computers check each step,
every test is passed;
Flight director polls the loop,
then the die is cast.
THREE feathers flame, the giant sways,
the moment is at hand;
floods are loosed from holding pond
to cool the launching stand.
TWO Roman candles now ignite,
Endeavour struggles free;
a million lions send their roar
across the land and sea.
ONE hundred in the grandstand rise,
flight controllers glow;
crowds along the causeway shout
GO! GO! GO!
LIFTing OFF through steamy cloud
as slow as in a dream;
the deafening sound engulfs us now,
Thor reigns supreme.
Earth orbit is our realm today,
tomorrow maybe Mars;
but none will rest until we've gone
ad astra -- to the stars.
-- Joseph W. Snyder,
May, 1993
