Think now of forces unremitting
Found within nature most befitting
And chance us on a story to tell
Of suspense, rise, and fall permitting
Doesn’t decay come to the mind’s cell?
And before that, life’s continued swell?
A harrowed story of growth and loss
A taste of heaven ‘fore ‘ternal hell
Consider the course of gentle moss
Which wanders through woodlands years across
Covering craters like green-hued snow
Each inch forward leaving life at loss
Mind the flame and the warmth it bestows
Feeding the air by flicker and glow
Yet dealing death by shutters of shade
Its embers recasting life hollow
Clouds assemble in the sky to wade
Forming here a heart and there a spade
With motion dismantling piece by piece
Indebted to Earth by dew drops paid
Think flocking sheep boasting golden fleece
In greenest pastures from God a lease
Hardly realising the grassland’s end
Where fluff and fodder begin to cease
See humble stone casting curvéd bend
In draw-wells moulded by fierce amends
With time their fortress scattered to dust
Bridged by mem’ry as one to a friend
Find crumbling dirt on Earth’s outer crust
Loosened by fingers and objects thrust
Splaying the mantle up as a cloud
Spreading through surfaces as it must
Death needn’t be demonised in shroud
Nor life pleasant and candied aloud
Just seen and loved while simply sitting
A story enjoyed as I had vowed.

Of Moss and Flame, Of Sky and Stone | by Andre Bshara
Clouds assemble in the sky to wade
Forming here a heart and there a spade





