What’s the use of Genesis without Revelation?
But not the sudden springing
of life from a breath or the sudden fury
of an angry God, no. The long drawn
out becoming over millions of years
to bring us a flower
that grows well in the margins of bulldozed
lands and carved trails cut through
suburban empires. And a revelation,
not a bang and not a whimper,
but a decades-long sigh like the last breath
of the last lonely human, no doubt praying
to the deaf universe. Too late,
but the world goes on. After our
extinction, I like to think of bright yellow
flowers and how they’ll appear pale
and white in the twilight as if covered in the ash
of burnt offerings that couldn’t save us.
