last days
no matter who has been alive
or what has happened in history
people have been convinced
they were the last act of humanity
because things were so bad
who could imagine a future?
no matter when they were alive
they represented a fraction
of all who lived before them
our 8 billion doesn’t stack up
against 109 billion ancestors
who thought they were done for
no matter how we tell our story
it is more than an apocalypse
more true than an illusion or
a waiting room for Jesus’ return
these days are as crucial as
they are fragile and fleeting
no matter how we try to tell time
we play only a few simple scenes
and are not the big closing act
even though we seem hell-bent
on burning down the house
life will go on last beyond us
what matters is not our importance
but our glorious impermanence
we can’t stay but we can care
make dinner make love make art
plant things and pay attention
till we turn back to stardust
Peace,
Milton
Very well stated (and in poetry).
What wonderful words to hear today. I hope you never stop speaking! Peace, Laurie
Thank you Milton. Somehow a reminder of our impermanence is refreshing.