All is all in motion everlasting,
Striving from the moment of arrival,
Wriggling, writhing, ravening or fasting—
Happenstance the agent of survival.
We balance on the slither of a cell
Within the genes of one we never knew
Who walked the earth when black-eyed Jezebel
Still worshipped Baal. Strange maybe, but true!
So circumstance has measured you and I
While Occam’s blade has shorn us to the bone,
Change, the leveller, seeks to multiply
And flesh gone renegade turns hearts to stone.
Cruel? Perhaps. Yet even drought bears fruit,
Creating light where other life may shoot.