And heading for the moon,

third-time lucky 

Chandrayaan,  

is sure to be a boon.

 

Watched and feted all around,

The craft is fully lunar-bound;

The crowds do roar,

The rockets soar,

Above the troposphere, beyond, 

Further, further, further still

Until all sound and noise are drowned.

 

In silence – nothing now is heard –

Alone, 

in Time and Space,

Alone:

No other soul, nor thing, nor bird.

 

The Lander drops to come to rest

now down on lunar ground;

The darker side of Moon, pitch-dark,

The Rover has to light a light 

To move across perpetual night

To push its lunar quest.

 

Fragments of the soil it pricks, 

Sends pictures to the earth,

to deepen mysteries that we know 

or know not of the sun and stars—

beginnings of our birth.