Simply human

Avid man makes out of the clay of him
temples where choirs sing ethereally
ascending away from gravity's grip
so giving dull matter glorious dreams
as wings composed from the breath of God.

Not born of sky we flap bogged in mud

willful children of nature needing more

held back and driven on by what we are
loving the world craving eternity
knowing more than we should and yet lacking
and bleeding to get what the angels know.

What point explains the volatile cosmos?
That benign mother nurturing our growth
abruptly venting cataclysmic force
dumping tsunamis of terror on towns
where random innocents drown and vanish
in vast impartial tides of global flux.

Each generation has its day to be
from nothingness came forth with eyes and ears
to see to hear to taste to touch to love
appears on earth and lasts its moment while
the turning of emergence and decay
creates us and decrees that we shall die.

What are we to the universe but ants
in evolution's unrelenting march
and yet each soul contains a world within
encompassing the eons of our past.
The reason for our singing is we breathe
and with that gift of God we start our flight.

JBD