Nothing ends - all transforms,
changes direction like a river bends.
Day becomes night, bodies decompose
to feed roses, freeing spirits to roam.
When the earth dies (whether
at our hands or after peaceful millenia
orbiting a dying star) atoms from
Amazonian rainforests will become
part of some magnificent
beings we cannot imagine
on a helium atmosphered planet so far
away it seems beyond
the end of space.
The End for Sunday Scribblings
This poem has been translated into Spanish by Nia andcan be read as part of her post on composting.