Poppies and NebulaFields, startlingly ablaze with colour,flare out compelling invitations to draw near
to see the papery wonder of their petals,
before they yield to seed-heads, shrivelled, drear,
which broadcast tiny caskets, interred for many seasons,
‘til fresh-turned earth prompts new-life to appear.
Galaxies, illuminated by their stars, blaze forth,
scatter their light to who knows where or whom.
Then in a churning, cataclysmic moment
one orb reduces all around it
to broth of cosmic chaos, dust and doom.
Yet in the diffuse remnant, lies a promise;
suns, planets, asteroids and moons.
We, privileged dwellers on this planet,
with brains that let us revel
in the beauty of these disparate fields,
come into this world, grow by its generous nature
and after brief or lengthy span,
like flower and star, to death, our bodies yield.
Those left behind may grieve,
feel shock, loss, anger,
find it hard to cope.
Have courage now!
Dare to consider
such cosmic rhythms’ inference;