Ash and ash,
a debt paid to life.
The fields are
scarcely visible,
and clouds are
floating low.
Yet, in the distance,
sunlit silence –
a slow turn again to life.
This is the way we came,
and the way we go.
I cup my ears,
to hear the magpie call.
Something to comfort
me, or another.
An endless fountain
of immortal hope
and laughing souls.
From the day of my coming,
until there is nothing in it.
Day after day.