A Lonely Shore

Coiled water rises,
carrying fragile moisture slowly
in an alien façade—

a chance for life
to slither through
the muddy compost
and come ashore—

dreams of a million
years or more.
Failure is accepted graciously,
as is the birthing of a lizard,
or killer whale or an ill tempered carnivore—

all such comes finally after millennia,
down from the heavens,
down from constellations flickering there,
a spectacle rare as gold dust falling,
glittering on a lonely shore.