Is it enough,

Is it enough,

This birth to death

With no return.

Even as we live and love

The slow monotony

Of movement

The impartiality of space

The ponderous decline

Of the human race.

The stillness of it

Moving faster than a speeding bullet

Which so easily would bring a close

To the suffering of the impatient who pray

For an end before

They have experienced a beginning.

The insufferable charges,

Hopeful souls and others

Who are less generous in their praise

And expect a turning circle

Of flesh and stone

To have a special meaning

Written through its core

From Pole to Pole.

Like a stick of Blackpool rock

Which seemed to me the greatest prize

The best that life could be

When we were young enough

To be satisfied with spun sugar

And a soft toy

What joy

Would it be now

To know

With simple clarity

How wonderful the world can be

As it is reflected

So shall it be seen.

Not for today

But for all eternity

A mere speck in an ocean

Of expanding Chaos

Hoping to find a way

Back to a time before

Bloodlust turned all

To ash and dust

When just for a moment

Every new day

Was significant.