From oblivion to infinity
without origin or finality,
our minds petrify like fossils
ancestral passions
to consummate all life’s promises,
while above us windsongs cleave
one cloud in two,
two to four, four to eight
and create
infinite dispersions
so we may see
stars flicker,
moonbeams’ shadow
sentinels for sunlight’s travel,
…and watchtowers for the treasures
of eternal hope.