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(20-06-1958 / Solihull, Birmingham, England)

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A small thing

Rewind, if you will,
Here, I'll help, hold my hand as
We walk with the Gods across
The vastnesses of existence to
A small, blue world where
Creatures live, fight, are born
And die. In their numberless hordes.
Wave on wave, repeating whilst
The galaxies move in the void and
The small, blue world spins
Round it's lifegiving sun, where
One of the creatures dies
And sinks to the bottom
Of it's ocean. Here to lie as
The planet breathes, evolves and
It's surface moves, land appears,
Disappears and falls again.
New creatures are born, evolve
Are made extinct,
And replaced again.

Now, this is where we came in…
Fast forward by two
Hundred million
Years
Give or take
And, on a building site
Where another new animal is
Leaving it's mark on the
Small, blue world -
Stand with me and hold a bone
From that first aquatic animal,
Freshly unearthed - and reach
Across time, past the movement of
Stars, the galaxy and space
And know that here, right now
You are a part of it.
I wonder if that Icthyosaur
Ever dreamed?

Submitted: Thursday, March 08, 2012
Edited: Thursday, March 08, 2012


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Comments about this poem (Criminal by Martin O'Neill )

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  • Smoky Hoss (11/12/2012 7:37:00 AM)

    A beautiful, soaring piece of wonderment.

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  • Prasanna Kumari (11/11/2012 10:43:00 PM)

    a journey through time and space with a small thing in your hand is really a big thing with your words...

  • Valerie Dohren (3/12/2012 1:26:00 PM)

    Matter can neither be created or destroyed, just recycled.

  • Ruth Walters (3/9/2012 5:49:00 AM)

    maybe the icthyosaur dreamed, I hope so....for what is life without our dreams

  • Unwritten Soul (3/8/2012 9:02:00 AM)

    One day we will appear in other living things....100hundred years from now...organic matter of our blood will return to the ground and the ground will grow the life, in a tree we re-utilize hahahahaha, :) it just a joke, nice poem Martin! and if there are aliens wonder how they reply to this LOL i am joking again...it really nice, keep it up_Unwritten Soul

  • Diane Hine (3/8/2012 8:22:00 AM)

    Sometimes while walking, I feel those rare moments of connectedness with long past times, and everyday anxieties disappear.

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