by Debi Swim
If this is all there is
and then nothing
if my sole looking forward to
is fertilizer for the growing things
or back to starry debris across the
sea of sky… I have to ask why?
Why do we gasp with awe
at the miracle of babies’ birth
calf, kitten, pup, whelp, infant,
nebulae, souls, love, poems, art
where is the wonder in finite?
We want things to live on.
We want to be remembered.
Why is it that we can’t just let go?
Obscurity is an obscene word,
Pauper’s graves a silent shame.
Why is the want to live forever
so strong in the human heart?
Is it planted there and meant to be
or just another human fallacy?
Note: Written in response to Red Wolf Poem, Prompt 150.
Debi Swim writes primarily to prompts. She is a wife, mother, grandmother and WV poet.