by Elizabeth Barrette

(Issue 2; updated February 20, 1997; archived March 6)

Edison worked for three years
Trying to make a lightbulb.
Nine hundred experiments failed
failed
failed
failed.
Nine hundred times his colleagues
Cursed and groaned, but each time
Edison beamed a little brighter.

They asked him why, and he explained
That having tried nine hundred doors there were now
Nine hundred fewer to try:

Each failure brought them closer to success.
Edison worked on alone, as one by one
His esteemed colleagues abandoned him to his madness.

Late one night, in his own home, Edison
Seduced his muse and a light bulb
Flicked on over his head.

The inventor rejoiced. Five years of effort paid off
In an instant of illumination. Then from the bedroom
His wife grumbled, "Put off that light and come to bed!"

Even success can't please all critics -- but every door
Closed means one door closer to the truth. Every truth
Opened means one more path to choose from.

By such small steps as these
We expand our Universe
And ourselves

One door at a time
The lightbulbs wink on over our heads
As we already look to the next room.