Hewn in antiquity
of fire and ice
rough fell born
in flash and fury hurled
from the high ground
fountainhead
set in motion
artlessly impelled
downwards tumbling
by such attraction
that demands all
obey its draw.
But my life’s course
stretches far beyond
your mortal grasp
and moves at a pace
measured in millennia
as you count days
I may rest bestilled
in quiet backwaters,
with fragile gossamer
dancing suitors,
a heavy quilt of moss
my besplendoured bed
Then torrent and
boiling spume,
surging anew
cast me seawards
towards a destiny
you cannot follow
I may reach the ocean,
traverse the abyss
arrive diminished
on alien shores,
or waste away
before that mark
But beyond your
temporal sight
I will subside toward
that searing core then
enkindled, compressed,
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