We are aftermath
recycled residue
afterburn of creation our bodies built
from cluster upon cluster
of wayward particles and we are
eternal return

how many aeons to shape a rose
the petals of thought
the palpitating heart
the desire to kiss to hold
and to caress
to love

what emerged from the dross
the debris of creation
in a structured universe
in which no matter nor energy
is ever wasted

part of that immense
single unending event
words formed from clusters of sound
and so to the surge of the poetic line
the mindful word travelling across space
or across the page

deluge of the imagination
and how life unleashed feeds upon life
the unconscious cannibalism of carbon
fanned by the flames of oxidation
and all the time I long to run my fingers
through her hair
wake to her dawn
all dust to dust
rose to rose

John Lyons

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