It could never happen... here anyway

                 and shuddered in the last red dawn.

                 The dawn spread across the land;

                                                            stone became glass.

                 Stone became glass and all was ashes

                                                            in the strange red light.

 

It could never happen... but we become finally what we have so long beheld.  Two millenia of prophesy:  seen, understood and ignored --         stone became glass.

 

Stone became glass in the strange red light.  The living surface of the spinning rock is no more.  From gases spinning in space to planet formed to land and ocean finally to man chipping flint nieroglyph towers built a million wars fought closer and closer to the last red dawn.

Could it happen here?

                           and shuddered once in the last red light.

 

A sleepless night.  Rise at dawn in the early light.  The gravel on the path crunches underfoot, leaves soon yellowed rattle in the trees, the rush of the river and the distant hum of the city all blend in one sound; become one feeling.  Thoughts perceived, remembered and felt, flow outward and return to the source.  Standing there as the embodiment:  the living speck of the tumultuous history that leads me to this; now.

 

A leaf falls and the river runs. The sun crosses the sky, the life-covered planet spins: time moves.  Would you change this orbital and historical imperative that has led up to you and beyond?  Four billion years of motion stopped?  It could happen here and become this apocalypse of the last red light.

 

              It could never happen... here anyway

              and shuddered once in the last red dawn.

              The dawn spread across the land;

                                                         stone became glass.

              Stone became glass and all was ashes

                                                         in the strange red light.