Stars and Stardust

They do not die. We do.
We slip further away
whenever we say adieu,
buried ever deeper:
humans becoming humus.

And so we rot.

Each weeping tear cracks our exterior.
Every grimace of grief shakes our core.
As our shoulders shudder, we do no
other than grind our very being
into dust.

And then a mystery:
green blade rising undoes
our dying. We sprout both
roots and shoots, striding
across heaven and earth.

Stars and stardust, with them.

4 thoughts on “Stars and Stardust

  1. arlavergne says:

    Just right. Today’s word.

  2. shoreacres says:

    Now: if only we could gain some humility. I suspect it would ease the journey into humus.

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