Pebbles from my skull
All along this strand opposite Holy Island
Pebbles fit softly in the palm of my hand.
Spent their eternity rolling on the floors of seas
Others, more ragged in texture, drag themselves
Through sand – desperate for the solidity of land.
Fossils cling to rocks, embedded trilobites, snail
Swirls, embossed in rock – all had lived
In the Jurassic or Cretaceous, fought for food,
Driven to reproduce. Why? So that aeons later
A mere virus can bring mankind to its knees?
Such wobbly evolutionary overlaps quickly dispose
Of those who see a straight trajectory into the future.
And give credence to those who saw, and still see, in the star of Bethlehem
A supernova, that wiped out the most advanced civilization ever known.