Curved border of brown dragons.


Lyrics: Maureen S. O'Brien
Music: "Crimson & Crystal", Cynthia McQuillin
Insp: Steven Hawking

See, he is Hawking. He ponders his prey.
Will it be a fat starling or black hole today?
Then released from flesh-jesses, his mind flies out free
On the wind of what is, to find all that may be.

For his mind is a raptor with talons of steel,
And he hunts through the heavens to capture what's real.
He is climbing... he stoops... then he dives on his prey!
And his cortex-claws carry new theories away.

Then the lure of this world draws him back to the glove
Of the body he bears and the fam'ly he loves.
(They called it) Art of the Rivers in falconry's prime,
But the river he stalks is the River of Time.

His muscles are millstones. His speech is a wire.
But his wings flirt and flash with the physicist-fire.
And he soars through weird worlds on his dreams and his math,
While new physicists fledge following his flightpath.

See, they are hawking. They ponder their prey.
They are hooded and human; they dream of the day
When released from flesh-jesses their minds fly out free
On the wind of what is -- to know all that may be.

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