Cusp
Think not of mustard seeds
My love
But yet of tiny
Grains of sand
Each one
Insignificant as the next
And vying
With those ever close
Tho shifting neighbours
Eroding on
An infinite beach somewhere
Just think my love
But once
All these did serve
The very heart and soul and pulse
Of ancient weathered mountains
Indeed upon the very beach
On which we now stand
So very naked holding hands
Yet restless neighbours
Such as these
Washed by tireless waves
And pounded
Caress the fragile
Fractured spines
Of flying fish and flightless birds
Piled high as carelessly
Discarded and
Misdirected whispers
Those lost in salt and sun
Bleached beards of oh’
So many demigods and
Reckless too
Such is the madness
Of our fleeting youth
Indeed of Hebe herself
And all her sisters
And all such universal truths
Today tho while
We are busy shaping history
Tomorrow reigns uncertain