420 million years of history
Held in the palm
Of my warm-blooded hand
And I find when I hold this fossil
Relic of the ancient earth
That time means nothing:
You were a ‘happy, happy living thing‘
You served your time
Became a piece of earth
I took you from the basket in a fossil shop
Labelled ‘420 million years’
And if 420 million years
Cannot erase the imprint
Of your fleeting life
Upon this changing earth
You truly were
A thing remarkable
As are we all,
All meeting the same fate
As that of the enduring trilobite
Preserved in stone until
The earth itself is burned into
Oblivion, and time itself, which never was
© Experimentsinfiction 2020, All Rights Reserved
I picked up this trilobite fossil at a mineral shop outside Postojna Cave. Something about its preservation over such an unimaginable stretch of time gave me pause for thought.
Love this one, Ingrid!
Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
We are all puppets at the hands of time. It spares none. Beautiful poetry.
That is very true, and thank you!
Absolutely loved this timeless piece 😉
Thank you so much 😊
It is easy to get caught up in the busy-ness of life, but when we take the time to reflect on how magnificent this planet is, including our contribution to the grandness of it all, even if fleeting, we are forever changed. Beautiful poem.
That’s very true! Thank you 😊