“Origin”
To rise.
Everything has risen
from stars, dust, hope.
That man on the street,
crashing to his knees
with his bottle and his scarred
knuckles,
he’s risen
from the same
place as that woman on her knees,
with her rosary and her tears.
One in the alley.
One in a church.
From the same ashes
of the same falling star
as me.
“Oblivion”
Forget.
Everything has risen—
everything will fall.
Someday there will be no
man in the alley,
or woman in a church
There won’t be
even a memory.
They’ll be smoke
dissipating in the wind.
Forgotten.
And someday I’ll be gone, too.
Gone.
Returned to hope. Dust.
And the stars.
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