Story of the Earth

In wrinkled cliffs that endless sinew,
And folds of crust, of soil, of stone,
This grandeur presses upon my breast,
Endless acres, since the world was new,
And wind and water as fingers to clay,
Shapes in softness or in violent hew.

And calls the voice: "again, again,"
O'er azure lakes and mountain pass,
Bloom, and leaf, and cub, and spawn,
In blink of light come through the glass,
To unfurl, unfold, to suckle, to swarm,
Creation's cacophony — the holiest mass.

Here, unfold my limbs and blink my eyes,
One of the cast of this evolving creation,
Part tooth and claw, part seraphic light,
Times of terrible torment and beatific elation,
Such beauty, such trauma, such is the truth,
Of our world dancing amid the constellations.


The story of the earth.