The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Friday 14 November 2014

Primordial Traveller

Life started with the leaving footprint
of a man treading across the stars.
He jumped from planet to planet
leaving life in his footsteps,
the mud on his boot from his
primordial world. 
He leaps from planet to planet
and life echoes in his wake, 
and death too,
death was his gift, 
the crushing force of his foot pressed,
so we do not have to wander
and leap forever through eternity,
but merely exist, 
and know that we live 
because of those primordial footsteps
and will one day follow
onward, into the cosmic abyss. 

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