(uploading missed entries - inspired by Auguste Rodin's "The Gates of Hell")
the molten earth envelops me in sulphur steam
and water-blood from the blind and crying oceans:
my instruments have measured every aspect
of my Universe, and decided this foundation
upon which to place the more worthy parts,
this place of ruin and ancient sand,
where water filters through the grains
to tell of things beneath,
and primordial forces fold away their differences
in gifts contorted like Rodin,
painted black with the ageless agony of stone.
I wonder at that pain and the hands
that wrought it once to life,
sealing the colossal weight of my birth
in the momentum of four billion years.
I look upon this Mother and feel nothing;
I was eternal made and I endure eternally.