Not steel alone, nor fire and flame, But beating hearts that dare to claim The path once walked, now walked anew— Through silent skies, by faithful few.
They carry more than suits and gear, They carry hope, and human fear. A glance at Earth, so small, so bright, Reminds them what they hold so tight.
No crowd above, no sound, no cheer, Just whispered prayers that God may hear. For in that vast and endless blue, It’s still a human point of view.
And as they arc ‘round moonlit gray, They bring our fragile dreams their way— Not just to reach what lies afar, But show us who we truly are.
Psalm 8:3–4 (KJV) “When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?”
