Future Past Poem by Paul Wilson

Was life just a metaphor,
Or, will a flaming meteor
Fall to earth tomorrow
Carrying foreign spore?
A trillion megatons of dust
Doodled out of mooing earth,
Suspended in the crystal air
As though the past was never there!

And the future, under a stone,
Scuttling, like a scorpion....

Will dust settle on the puffball tongue,
Foretell the runes of death and birth,
Pronounce the sentence of our doom
And cancel out for ever more
This pain, this rage, this grief, this sorrow?