Subject to Decay

Objects, and the Distance Between Them

In the beginning
There was a light
And in the end
There will be nothing

At times
We can grow so focused
On one or the other
That we forget
That the space between is where
We live and breathe
Where joy and beauty are found
Just the same as pain and misery
That we cannot ever know
How many years
Will pass
Before we too must do the same

I have often looked out
At the grass growing tall
At the weeds that forever encroach
And thought of all that lies beneath
Of the stories and lives that now reside
In dust and dirt
Buried now
But present still
In the stalks in leaves
In the very air we breathe
For nothing is ever truly lost or gained
We are all but matter
Subject to decay

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