Venus, the planet, named after Venus, Roman goddess of love
Seen from a distance, Venus looks mysterious. Brightest object in in the night sky, barring the moon. Colorful, swirling layers of clouds made scientists think it was another, nearly earth-like planet. Maybe once that was true. The bands of purple and pink in this UV image of Venus, taken in 1995, fit the stereotype perfectly — beautiful, feminine colors wrapping the planet like so many swathes of gauzy fabric.
However, the image at the top of this post tells a different story. Whatever Venus might have been, like the rest of the planets in the solar system, Venus is now studded with craters, signs of eons passing through not-so-empty space.
The Isabella crater in the above picture is 108 miles across — about 5 miles longer than the distance from Cleveland, OH to Erie, PA. That’s a pretty big impact crater, which, of course, means it was a pretty big impact. You can learn more about the planet Venus on NASA’s website here.
It’s fascinating the difference between image from a distance and image up close. Between what is imagined, and what turns out to be real. And it’s hard to hold multiple views of the same thing in mind at the same time, isn’t it? I can envision the planet according to either of these pictures, but I can’t quite overlay them in my mind, even though I know that they are both simultaneously true.
But maybe you thought I was going to talk about Venus, the statue?
The Aphrodite of Milos, the famous broken-armed statue, more often known as Venus de Milo, has some parallels to the planet Venus. Supposedly the most beautiful goddess/planet, obviously a bit worse for wear, and having survived a significant time (the statue is Greek, from about 100 BC). Also it is hard to imagine her with arms, now. Take a look at the proposed reconstruction photo, on the Wikipedia link at the beginning of this paragraph. I find it extremely odd to see a version of the Aphrodite of Milos with arms. Never mind what she was supposed to look like. But that doesn’t mean the statue isn’t beautiful now, as is.
That tension between perfection and imperfection, as-should-be and as-is, is at the center of this week’s poem of the week, Venus:
Venus
I argued: you’re lovely.
He said it was obvious you’d been broken,
hit by something hard as asteroid.
As if rough edges were evidence
of failure. He could admire
but never love a broken thing.
Curated, he allows the imperfect.
Home, the standard flies higher.
You’ve shown a knack for weathering
storms and uncertainty, acquiring
only fissures, faults. Maybe,
he missed the lack of seasons,
retrograde sister, second brightest,
complete and incomplete.
If you enjoyed Venus
You’ll find more of my poems on this blog or in the collection Stars Crawl Out From Their Caves, which is available in both ebook and print.
Missed a poem of the week? Links to prior weeks are on this page.