tumbleweeds on green plains and fields
sunlight lighting up its satellites barren wastes
harsh tundras and dim forests
a small spring running through carved rocks
decaying, over time, the history
it took so long to build up. vanishing before
it knew it was there
rags and riches laid to rest in an ocean bed
but it's so beautiful you could cry forever
and if that forever was something
you had
never would you give it away
even for all the knowledge of the redwoods
or the nocturnal vision of the most distant stars
stretching their voices across the void of
nothing
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