We Are

We Are

The earth
This fire cored
Stone encrusted
Watered orb
On which we imprisoned stand
Cares not for our times,
Our books,
Our speech.
It rolls on
Laughing
If such a thing it can do,
At our need
To mark things
Like time
And our passing.
If it could speak
It would tell us
That within its seconds
We will be
Just another part
Of the fire
To be cooled
By the water
To become stone.

Michael Bahm

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