Though born from stardust

We dwell wishfully on earth

Thinking we know

How to live a stellar life,

Until weathered and humbled,

We die and crumble.

 

Then, falling back to the earth,

Whether as ash or soil,

Or sand or grit,

We become a part

Of a deep transformation.

 

I wish to become

The sparkling grit in the river,

Carried by currents to the place

Where the rocks can tell me

That we are all made from the same stellar dust.

Perhaps then I will understand

What the earth’s stones

Have always known.