When morning stains the folded hills,
When evening fades from rose to chills,
I lift my lantern high to kill the darkness on my way.
While shadows rotate round the trees,
While bats team-rope the prowling breeze,
I hold my lantern out to ease some light on wary things.
What seems so clear is none too bright,
And what’s obscure is not just night;
And that’s why I use lantern light by darkness and by day.
This burning curiosity—
These questions spawning endlessly—
If facts enough lay eggs, I’ll see the truth hatch out with wings.