Far Flung

From creation's dawn matter has been flung to outer limits, beyond conception. We live in a fragment somewhere among imagined limits of our perception. Here counterfeit creators would exploit for human ends finite gifts of nature and so leave diverse habitats destroyed, condemning many a thriving creature. Here dark conflicts of self interest scatter refugees – their identity displaced, lost, flung out as waste, rejected matter. Those poison powers and weapon words disgraced Justice fair holds the light for all to see the other as if 'twere me, to create from fragment people a fresh galaxy of love and hope at sunset, to relate to God at dusk. Drawn as one at day's close to value all of life for its own sake, we rest at peace gathered from the shadows, ready for the morrow to be awake.