There’s something alive in the ocean, non-visible to
the human eye. Smaller than grains of sand on a
beach that get stuck between your toes. It’s
microscopic, a singular cell. It does not have the
awareness to know you exist.
Unaware of scale
The cell continues onward
Through ocean waters.
The leaf of a tree sways gently with the wind,
knowing–when the time comes–it will fall. In the
present, the leaf continues to bask in sunlight.
Autumn has not yet
Brought in the yellow that will
Tear the leaf away.
People look up into night skies and wonder if they
can change the world. Questioning what pain is for,
and asking why moments can’t last forever. Comets
burn up before their eyes, and they view them as
marvelous. Do they not realize those comets, too,
are something coming to an end?
Wonder fills their eyes
As something unknown to them
Dares to ask them why.
Creatures wander through the woods at night, eyes reflecting in the dark. Shadowed by bushes with newly blooming roses. Thorns prick your fingers when you aren’t careful enough. The world was never careful. Not when life crawled out from the ocean, not when the plants grew extra leaves, not when you were born. The world is not careful. It’s not organized.
All things so strange, odd.
There is one thing they all share:
They are alive.