One theory of our existence is that we are within an ever expanding universe, and our linkages to that condition are confusing , to say the least. This viewpoint is from those of East Anglian stock.
Ghosts are the memories of strained emotions
thought to exist outside time’s constraint.
We are all ghosts, ethereal fragments linked to the past
our stardust bodies remnants of the swirling mist left
from the prime explosion billions of years before,
when Carbon, formed inside a burning star,
became the chance alchemising catalyst
that triggered life on flooded earth.
Our emotions are ghosted by our genes,
empiric wisps woven as our intangible self,
a phantom, briefly lodged within its random shell.
We know now that nothing is created or destroyed –
the only power is change – from which we have emerged.
Within us are the atoms of Raedwald and Boudicca
part of our essence is as their living ghosts.
This is a stunning poem . Certainly one I will want to read many times. So succint and so true.