goddess #44

it's peaceful here at world's end

despite images of ships sailing over the edge into terra incognita

despite the echo of Eliot's "not with a bang but a whimper"

and the sudden vision of black, thick, gooey water snuffing out life.

an ancient oak patiently engulfs a stoney outcrop,

cries of children and running feet break the silence and fade away,

a myriad of tiny creature deconstruct a fallen branch, returning it to the earth.

all this is true

here at the end of the world

all this, and everything else in this moment -- in every moment.