Why worry? As near to forever
as humans can bear to imagine

our earth’s one moon will circle,
and far-off stars although unstoried

shine—some bright, some faint.
Although no leaves will flutter

or seed disperse, the winds
will still rough up the seas,

hone smooth or grind to dust
the stone, polish wider fields

of deeper snow. Although no lives
will respire the sky will float

or frazzle clouds—some white,
some dark—and the nearest star

will burn long and gold. Although
and soon no fires will spark

or forests turn to twists of smoke.
Suffering will be no more—selah—

death will be undone.

 

 

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Jennifer Atkinson is the author of six collections of poetry, most recently A Gray Realm the Ocean (Fordham).

 

 

 

Photo by Paul Lichtblau on Unsplash