Imagine Without Bound
​Duration: 14'00"

Instrumentation:
Narrator, Flugelhorn, and Piano
​
Program Notes:
forthcoming
​
Poems by Alfred M. Worden (1932-2020), Apollo 15 Command Module Pilot
Used with permission.
​​
I. Oceans
In the distance, barely seen,
The thin horizon knifes between
The ocean and the sky.
I know that I could reach it
If I had wings to fly.
Then gazing upwards, far away,
The stars and planets dance and play
In an infinite ocean of space.
Like Sirens of old they beckon me
To join in their embrace.
Close at hand the pelicans pass
As wind whispers softly through the grass
And waves gently stride upon the beach.
The world is calm and peaceful–
No further than my reach.
How can I leave this lovely place
To venture forth in outer space?
Consider the dangers I might find
Exploring Ganymede
Another question in my mind.
While I love the scene around
My mind imagines, without bound,
Why I feel the call to roam
Could it be a Lunar flight
Is one small step towards home?
II. Launch from the Bleachers
They stand like newlyweds
She in virginal white
He with arms outstretched
Silhouetted against the sky.
They embrace.
Last night she was a brilliant ghost
Caught by the lights in repose
The tiny van draws up
And deposits her eyes and mind.
Now she is eager to be gone.
All around the throngs keep vigil
She quivers as the
Ceremonial hour nears,
Impatient, she fumes
With frustration.
She’s leashed and restrained
Great sheets of ice fall
Still she is held.
The crowds hush and pause;
T-1 hour and counting.
She hears, responds,
And slowly comes to life
Still held by loving arms.
She’s almost
Ready
Her attendants draw away—white room and van—
The waiting crowds watch intently
As Swing Arm seven pulls away,
No retreat now.
T-3
Her mind works feverishly
Insuring all is right
Everything is right
The word spreads quickly
T-2
Why am I watching here
Like some poor tourist?
I know what they are doing
And I long to be with them.
T-1
The fire’s in her now
Her moment is here;
Unhesitatingly she moves
Passion released
In motion.
The tower slides beneath her
As she climbs on fire and noise
From below we watch her magic
And Marvel at her poise.
She flies.
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Commissioned by a consortium organized by Jennifer Oliverio and includes:
Jennifer Oliverio
Michael S. Brown, Jr.
Buddy Deshler
Douglas Lindsey
Amy Millesen
Joshua Mobley
Amanda Ross
Hollyn Slykhuis & Andrew Wood
Natalie Van Deventer
Matt and Jena Vangjel

Performances:
Emily Trapp Jenkins, Jennifer Oliverio, and Kristy Mezines - 5 November 2025; St. Joseph, MO


​
III. Moonscape
Here they come in fantastic procession
Sliding in view, each one a lesson:
Liebnitz, Ingenii, Bright One, and King,
History’s evidence, history’s ring;
Mare, mountain, rima and rille
Violent once, now still;
Crisium Littrow, Sulpicius Gallus,
Hadley, Appenine, permanent talus;
There’s an order implied by the jigsaw of features
Unlock the mystery, Earthling creatures.
To see for ourselves just where we are
In the order of time the moon is our book
Presenting us clearly a backward look.
IV. Perspective
Floating effortlessly, freely,
Magnet-drawn to a target in the blackness
We venture
Moving easily in the confines of our small world,
Sustaining life.
Stars in slow ballet pirouette;
Passive thermal control
We barbecue to the moon.
We believe we can illuminate our history
By visiting this ancient lovely sphere.
What value is this flight
In a hostile ocean to an alien shore?
What can the living learn from the dead?
Slowly the lunar disc slides by the window
Familiar, but much larger,
And the earth drifts into sight.
Of all the stars, moons, and planets,
Of all I can see or imagine,
This is the most beautiful;
All the colors of the universe
Focused on one small globe;
And it is our home, our refuge.
Now I know why I’m here:
Not for a closer look at the moon,
But to look back
At our home
The earth.