Life on Loan

In the beginning,

a single cell drifted,

a spark adrift in the black water,

like a lantern lit in a cave of silence.

It divided,

folded upon itself,

a chorus of whispers becoming tide,

until the sea was crowded with breath,

jellyfish pulsing like galaxies,

fish slicing through currents like silver knives carving the dark.

Coral grew like frozen fireworks,

reefs blossomed into cathedrals,

and the ocean sang in colors that rivaled the dawn.

From saltwater wombs,

creatures crawled onto land,

their limbs clumsy as unfinished prayers,

their lungs tasting air like a new language.

Forests rose,

green lungs exhaling into the sky,

and among them, apes swung like pendulums of time,

until one stood upright,

a fragile tower of bone and dream.

Man carried fire in his hands like stolen stars,

built cities that glittered like constellations fallen to earth.

He carved stories into stone,

into paper,

into the marrow of memory,

layer upon layer,

complex as spirals in a seashell,

fragile as glass spun from sand.

Yet…

Every wave returns to shore.

Every tree bends to soil.

Bodies,

whether scaled,

feathered,

or clothed in skin,

is broken down, decomposed,

returned to the dark chemistry that birthed it.

The ocean swallows,

the earth consumes,

and the cycle proves,

life is not owned, but borrowed.

All existence,

 From plankton to man,

from forest to flame,

is written in the ledger of impermanence:

Life on Loan.