The matter that makes us is impermanent
Everything is equally finite The dust that stirs under footsteps Will one day become the feet that walk Only to cease wandering and lie still Even memories disperse like atoms from the fire And in like fashion they are shared elsewhere Until the centuries cause them to forget Where and when they were first assembled Nothing withstands the breaking of time Except the dark, empty vacuum The celestial pool where we all return Either to the cauldron of celestial fission The gravitational doom of the black hole Or endless floating throughout the void Eventually, all will return to the all That singular moment in time Where a crescendo of recognition and revelry Will shower the emptiness with the light of our joy Dust becomes bones |
Archives
May 2016
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