On The Deep Field View



The final insult
is you don’t even get to schedule
your nervous breakdown,
like an oil change
or lawn aeration.
It simply arrives one day,
The mortar gone,
stones fall
in a symphony of thuds,
wounding those who’d sheltered
in your steadier configuration.

If glaciers are powerless
to stand unaltered by
a climate in change,
what hubris you harbor
by believing
you can remain ever
solid and unbroken
or elect the time and form
for transformation.

Oh, if only we possessed
the fortitude to surrender
to the inevitability
of wild tumble
at moments most inopportune!
Something new
can always be constructed.

We are not doomed.
We remain,
the descendants
of dust from distant light.
Our next progression
may prove even more beautiful
than the last.


April 4, 2014
Julie Ayers
NaPoWriMo Day 4




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