It started so well.

Alone, silently, a cell splits on a planet,

cold and bleak, traces of life beginning

fragile, hopeful and a stirring of a sigh.

—-

Then others mutate and movements starts

as the urge to live, to create and to be but 

changes the barren land and sea and sky.

Slowly, creeping, altering organisms are

becoming more complex, and are they

choosing and deciding or has something

—–

moved over the waters, shifting, silently

building a life that wakens and urges to

sounds, and calls, and echoes thrilling

—–

the ocean where the slippery shapes of

finned creatures, loving the watery flow

over their various forms,  swim to and fro.

—–

Standing forms are moving now, taking

over places and building their own place,

ignoring their effects and increasing spoil;

——

for the way they made their core contribution,

and the force that begat the beginnings

is destroyed in favour of might and moil.

——

The hope that drove the tiny, trembling cells

is trampled as carbon chokes each millennia’l

budding, and a planet begins to buck, to bend, 

to 

burn.