The people doing the things you want to do
Go from being older than you
To younger than you.
It may bother you
But not as much as it used to.
Photo by tpsdave (Pixabay)
You travel light
Forever to spend
This short life
Skirting the surface
Of a spinning ball.
Chasing the sunrise
Broadening your horizons
Until you can’t see the edges of your horizons.
Not running from
But running towards
The Great Unknown.
Awash in jet fuel
You put another thousand miles
But the road is long
The world is wide
That The Search
Is not done yet.
What is it?
Where is it?
Have you ever seen it?
In transcendent moments?
In stop offs, brief pauses for breath,
Facebook check ins
In hotel lobbies, through telephoto lenses,
Or out on the Savannah?
Did you find it in Akrotiri
In a sunrise?
And phosphorescent skies?
Was it there,
Amongst gutters, clamour
And all those people in Mumbai?
You may see everything
You ever wanted to see
All the major focal points
Of the Spinning Ball
And you may
Create more memories
Than you could ever recall.
Your skin may darken
And your mind may widen
And you may make friends
In unfamiliar places
Or leave this world
Full of familiar places
But a thousand years
Could pass you by
And you would never find
What you were looking for
And that would be alright in the end
Everything will be alright in the end
Photo by Anne Worner
When we talk of our ‘family’, where do we draw the line?
Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, 1st cousins…3rd cousins, 11th cousins twice removed
Like a great many things, it’s all relative
Go back far enough and we all share the same grandmother
Or take this argument back further
To some sort of floppy, spineless, water based creature
From which we are all descended
Back further still to single celled bacteria
Hanging out, multiplying and swallowing each other
(…great grandparents taken to orders of magnitude and ridiculous extremes)
Even further still to the pool of amino acids
Waiting for life to happen
And bubbling in the Primordial Soup
In one way ‘family’ is defined by amount of genetic divergence between two organisms
The less divergence, the more ‘related’ you could call us
If we take the amount of genetic similarity as a measurement…
Whoever you are, you share around 99.5% of your DNA with me
So, when I call you my brother or my sister perhaps it means something
If it can be worked out at the point our grandparents diverged
Then it really is a matter of degree
Put another way, all of our grandparents were the same ‘person’, up until a very recent point in the biological timeline
Maybe we can take a more expansive view and realise
That, to a great extent, all of Earth’s life is related
I mean, Jesus, you already share 60% of your genes with a chicken
At one point you and that chicken’s extremely-great-grandparent
Where one and the same
In this way perhaps we could think of ourselves as a big family;
Of carbon and trace elements
Currently animate complex matter
Source material born in the heart of a star
Subatomic material born in the Big Bang
(….again, it depends how far back you look)
Back to that old stardust trope again
Despite being an only child of an only child of an only child of an only child
I like to think of everybody and everything as my brothers and sisters
The Orion Spiral Arm Crew
Meaninglessly large numbers
Trillions or quadrillions of us;
You, me and everyone and everything
All living and dying and recycling our matter
Over and over again
All fighting the war against entropy, frailty, futility and Oblivion
Over and over again
Some searching for meaning
Most just trying to survive and reproduce
So that their children can do just the same,
Forever and ever
Until there is no space for ghosts
Until there is just space
And what will the point of it all have been?
Photo by vishwaant
Life is relentless
Into more humans
Photo by Phil Roeder
You are going to die
Without having fully lived;
Image Credit: harutmovsisyan
We are not separate
You and I
We are just separated
From time to time
In space and time.
And in the grander scheme of things
This is just a brief severance
The awareness in lacuna
Glimpsed and so quickly forgotten again.
There is some spot
You can neither see
On time’s horizon
A singular destination in which
We are all due one day.
You can never know
What it is,
Where it is,
Or when you’ll get there
But one day you will
And you and I will be reunited for good.
Photo by hjzla
The clouds hand over
Their water to the landscape
A gift from above
Image Credit: Unsplash
Imagine a place
Where you could find the ideas
You never wrote down
Image Credit: Foto-Rabe