From cradle to grave souls are marked
from grain of cot to cross on mound;
as smooth skin turns to wrinkled parch
the seeds, soon saplings, bolder trunks
will stand, gnarled witnesses throughout.
So water, earth, air, fire conjoin
as elements while journey on
toward infinity unknown,
our human dust but shooting stars
in cosmic rays that beam from suns.
A moment here, as time paints skies,
with push and pull of lunar tides
long distant forces spin our world
beyond imagination’s mind –
what we call old recycles globe.
So see day die, rich golden robe,
as thrown around dark web of twigs
and know new light dawns other lands,
with hope we share our common wealth
and learn our hours be complement.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales, UK, from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces curated and published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, including Poetry Potion. He has, like so many, been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. His blog is at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com