"A World's Disposition"
Yesterday, tomorrow, and today will never pass.
Except by the world and others who don't know them.
The dawn will be a new morn.
When the world and the others will be born.
Like a song, the world carries melodies.
To please the cosmos and the enchanted worlds of dust.
But unlike the world, people will rust.
To live life to the fullest is a prophetic must.
Mother nature's bust.
In the huddle of earth's nursing.
Life is left undone like this poem.
Where we wander, we roam.
To let an ocean's floor comb the sand.
Playing a genetic string band.
New rocks in its tomb's box.
By Jonathan Billet In The Summertime's 2015
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