So It Goes
 
It’s hard not to ask
looking up at the sky
In all of the vastness,
Where is the I?

Among the stars, planets
and moons, in the sigh
of our sleepless time,
there you are, they reply.

But I see not me,
no footprint, nor mark
of life’s signature
in the spreading dark.

No echo of my voice
returns, and I fear
the words I speak
are but a falling tear.
 
So it goes, the wind
whispers, so it goes.
The biggest things
Are folded unto a rose.
 
Carry its beauty
and you carry the world;
and there you live,
your eyes unfurled.

Warwick McFadyen