I will only do this once
Walk down Pudsey Hill late one night
Admiring the stars
After seeing friends.
Walk anywhere one specific time
Or admire a particular glorious sunset
Every one being unique
In its blend of beautiful reds, blues, purples
And other hues.
So we have to make the most of Now
Be mindful indeed,
For there will be a time
When we can sense no more.
Mortality is certain.
Even the very plants are living on soil
Made from the remains of their ancestors.
And we eat the plants
And eat eaters of the plants.
Ashes to ashes indeed.
You know the rest.
But green living things live on
Making oxygen
For those yet to germinate and grow
Or be born.
Winter is soon followed by Spring.
Destruction by Creation.
An almost endless cycle
In the bosom of Mother Earth.
Paul Butters
© PB 9\8\2023.