The Distraction

Armageddon can be such a distraction
from the little things in life
that used to be so big.
It’s hard to think of something so small
as the expiration of one little heart,
as two hands never touching again
being significant beneath the huge
black canopy of the mushroom cloud.
The forecast predicts new kinds of weather:
gargantuan winds, blizzards of ash, green clouds.

I don’t want to hear anymore about this.
In these days that we are told will be our last
I will give my consideration to the small things
that I have ignored for so long.
I will try to press my ribs closer,
to put my heart closer to yours
so they can beat together, a rhythm section.
I will try to see things other than what’s very high above,
the things inside, huge and invisible.
I will aim through the blue rings of your pupils
at the still center among the frenzy.

The world will never end.
After memory and sense have vanished,
after this rock has been blown to shrapnel,
after the stars have closed their light,
somewhere in the memory of motion
will be kept these little moments
that accumulate into Forever.

And in the emptiness,
one little molecule will bloom.

In the emptiness,
one little molecule will

split. The Law is
that two things alone,

no matter how shy, are
curious about each other.

The urge of gravity
will nudge them together

and they will begin to dance.