At the point

Where a hundred thousand trillion

Little lives are lost

Cemented together

Worn

Weathered

Bleached

Remnant life and form

Still cling

And speak to me

Of time

Of seasons

Long before

White ships appeared on any horizon

When the sound of avian life

Filled the silences

Left between branch and bough

Insect and creature

And the seas

Were natures paintbox

And the guardians of its depths

Sailed it’s watery skies

At this point

Betwixt

Land

And

Sea

And

Sky.

I sit

Aiming my compass

Feeling my insignificance

And wondering

How you came to be

My true north.