One of my most philosophical poems to date; more of a musing on my own part than a real poem. I did go to some extent to describe scenes, but more is put into the thoughts. Hope you like it.
afterthoughts of creation
It's so amazing to see what has become of the world
From what it was, multitudes of millennia ago.
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It started so small, so simple—
There were only creatures of the rock
Born of stone and shaped by wind,
Steely and unfeeling, guards of the land
And plants—waving, motionless statues
That graced the barren land with colour.
-
How much it has grown from there!
Change after change, a continuous series of changes
That shaped life, shifted it from its humble beginnings
Into the rainbow of myriads that has sprung from that.
-
Rock became flesh, melded with the life of flora
To turn into the vast, lively, varying creatures
Living, breathing, cruel, beautiful—
That roam the lands, the oceans, the skies
And impress their footprints upon the ancient earth
To join the imprints of those who went before.
-
Where great dull creatures of granite and sand once stood
Are, now, the colourful fauna that came from them
And the plants grow evermore beautiful
Every fragile bloom still so striking and radiant
Compared to the leaves of the old.
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They make me feel so content, so proud of what I have done,
The works of my very own hands, given the gift of change
But…hasn't it become all the more…ugly? Is this really…
The change I want to see?
-
With their evolution came knowledge and understanding,
Wish for power and fame and success—
And they have begun to turn on each other,
Attack others, who all had the same origin as they did,
Harm them, kill them, turn them into servants…
-
Did I really want them to become so?
My creations now bring each other to ruin—
The flora that once stood as life-givers, ornaments
Stand helpless to the ruthless scour of these creatures,
Who, with their own free will, now harm what I have made?
-
I still remember that moment, buried deep within the mists of memory,
Yet unfading, when I breathed life into my creations of rock.
"Go forth and make the world yours," I told them, without thought,
Without a doubt that that was what I wanted.
-
That wish has come true, for now I, myself, do not own them
Cannot do anything to stop their reign of destruction—
The world is theirs, and if this carries on,
They will bring their own end…and my beautiful creation
Will be no more.
-
Will they remember that they all came from the same group of creatures
Into whom I breathed life, that revolutionary day, millennia ago,
That they are all branches of the same river,
Divided yet similar in a way;
Will they recall that they were all the same, once?
-
Ah, how much it has changed, how amazing, my land,
And how much I now fear to look upon it for what it has become
All is still changing, that in itself never changing,
And all that change has done so much—
From the seeds of creation, a new world has sprung
Rock turned into flesh, plain green turned into a rainbow.
But is this the world that I wanted, when I first formed life?
Not much, but I would appreciate your reviews.
