The arching sky is calling
Spacemen back to their trade
All hands!Stand by!Free falling!
And the lights below us fade,
Out ride the sons of Terra,
Far drives the thundering jet,
Up leaps the race of Earthmen,
Out, far, and onward yet---


We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of earth



This is from a short story by Robert A. Heinlein, "The Green Hills of Earth". Not the best poetry but it has always spoke to me. I remember how it came to mind on the day of the Challenger disaster. Have a great day.