Home At Last

Brimmed with a million feelings,
wanting everything and nothing all at once

The sun is setting here,
but is starting to rise somewhere else.

There cannot be shadow without a light,
for nothing cannot exist if something doesn't either.

Filled with reeling phlogiston
and covered by water and life and soil,

The earth burns and freezes
as it waits for the meteorite's hit.

It tries not to count-down its life away, for
life should not be an unceasing sequence of count-down calendars,
even if it is a near ceaseless cycle of hellos and good-byes and hello-agains.