A study of molecules

Time spins
and the stars look down -
there is a knife in your heart
and your face has a
permanent frown.

Cuts on the hands from the
rough iron plough -
if only it were rain,
all the ills
that I could slough off 
my skin.

Silence there is, when I used
to pray - all I have now
are grey days and church
is an empty casket
that I buried one day
in a deserted street.	

What God would make us so
dark and aimless, so
inexorably cruel?  Feed
us dirt and gruel that
hurts the throat
and does not sustain?

Trying to tie sashes on
horses is a courageous game
with torture marks on the
face, but we are all
trampled under racing hooves
and disdain.  The powerful
always win.

Each day the sun lights
our dirt and ashes -
all the effort, all the
heft of skin and bone
lost to the elements
gone into space on a
sigh or a moan.

What marks the unalterable
fact that we were here
when even words cut into
stone are eroded by time.

The love I feel is vast
and unknowable, it is a
sorrowful thing, a being
of all that never was,
the chances gone.  Yet
it is invisible
as the wind
and you only know it on
your bone.

The Great Vast God of
all that is:  in and
through all things, says
nothing at all 
about our pain, all our
hurts worn like clothes
that nobody sees.

I would stamp us out
like the disease we are
if I were asked.  All
things pass and nothing
remains - we are comments
on pages that no-one can
read or understand.

Life is a dead-end
street
and nothing really matters
or makes sense.

Infinite dissection and the
most powerful lenses
tell us nothing
of how and what things
really are - we are
a landscape of scars
teeming on a rock
in a silence so vast
we cannot comprehend it -

so we focus on hunting
and gathering still
to fill the gnawing void

but I would give all that
I am
to have them back again
the ones I mourn.

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