for a death.
We know it to be a probability
that here, in our neighbourhood
there must be one among us
about to draw their last breath.
The wise ones watch
waiting for those tell-tale signs;
a change of pigmentation,
a change of pulse,
a change of observed rhythms,
A hint, as stability realigns
itself and portends massive vulnerability.
We wait and we wait and we wait
for this death,
knowing it will be proclaimed startlingly.
Light so intense
that even our star will look pale in the sky.
Who knows?
Will we all be perplexed for a while
by a perpetual daylight,
inexorably linking us to the source
of this intensity?
For this will be an apocalypse
in our neighbourhood.
A cataclysm that is not ours,
yet reminds us
that death is at the heart of the Cosmos.
For everything, even mighty stars -
that will in time become catalysts for life.
Death indeed, in a blaze of glory?
Paradox writ large!
for in this rending, this Armageddon
we witness
will hold in it
the seeds of new life.
Far-flung dust and debris
from this supernova
will coalesce
and build new rhythms.
Infant suns with planets
will spring into new birth
aeons after our witnessing this demise.
Yes! In the spectacular long awaited death
is a promise of resurrection for all who die.
Among the mighty forces of nature
is a reflection of the wonder of a God
who shared, with us, his eternal Son
