on the wall [POEM]

I imagine a wise old farmer
patiently building a stout stone wall
partitioning off his fields
for purposes of his own

the job complete
one day he steps out
and notices
a tiny flower
blooming in the narrow space
between two stones
he smiles at the unexpected beauty
over the next few days
he checks on the flower
sprinkling water on the rocks when temperatures climb
brushing away tiny pests that might devour it

one day
as is to be expected
the flower dies
the wise old farmer smiles wistfully
rejoicing in the memory of its fragile beauty
then he brushes it away
letting it return to the soil
from whence it sprang

I think the divine prime mover created
an unfathomably huge universe
for purposes of his / her / its / their own
a universe inherently hostile to life
yet
somehow
on one of the myriad tiny planets in it
life grew
I think that while the divine prime mover
did not create this universe with humanity in mind
he / she / it / they are pleased
with our brief spark of beauty
doing what they can to enable us
sending messengers of
peace
love
compassion
charity
saying the same message again and again
“treat others the way you want to be treated”

 someday the last human shall perish
the spark of life
that illuminates this planet
will die out
and while the universe
might be a slightly less beautiful
it will roll on regardless

© Buzz Dixon