When nothing is left
But blunt reality
We see
We stand on rocks
Slick with slime
In a tidal pool
Warmed by a
Bloated sun, the air
A dance of humidity,
Our sky electric with
Lightning, dark with smoke
From birthing volcanoes.
We cry
Our cries
Subsumed by
Roiling seas, flying spray,
Wind lashing in fitful slaps.
We grow toward
Light and stillness.
Entropy just laughs.
/ W B Kek, “Hephaestus In Despond”
