Generations fail – crushed in time,
leaving history’s mass.
Lonely cairns covered in grass
We kept their bones
We have their eyes
Passing by unknown lives,
dreaming our future names.
Unaware of becoming the same.
glittering moments and the rustlings of ghosts,
slide past and through and around
that which we share, caught in gravity’s sphere
flickering and sighing, beautifully bound.
this precious mote, each shining grain-
(the nodes of joy and rasping pain)
tumble spin collide