An exclamation mark weaves a curve through Darkness.
It challenges a silent chasm best measured by clocks rather than kilometers.
But that Void offers no roar or blast
Beyond the cold harbingers of Time and Fate and Chance.
When the long silence ends
It is to the vibration of thrusters.
Then point-precise thunder
Channels the chaos of explosive bolts.
Thin air keens its frictional wail beyond the burning aeroshell.
Gravity one-third Earth’s grabs a thin frame
While metal heart knows when the Plummet begins.
A red landscape stretches before unblinking electronic eyes
To glimpse the temptations Ray warned us about.
Those visions are old as Dust
And still so very new
Yet no canals or alabaster cities today
But just as many mysteries.
The Voice that greets us is the whispered harmonic fugue
Between drogue and wind.
And all the while the clocks are running
To mark the moment where we hover, Aflame!
And like a mad mechanical butterfly
On plasma wings Inching Down
Below a ludicrous pink sky where
Only dreamers are allowed to dare.
Wheels touch Mars
But motors do not yet turn.
New to this World we must look
With a plan for each move and meter.
The cameras show sights Unknown
And we plot our trek.
Rock and wind and secrets
All soon Revealed.
To our Curiosity.