Colin F. Jones

A POSITIVE PREDICTION

No heaven emerges from the future mist,
Such a fond idea predictions resist,
Yet grasses will grow through all of the cracks,
Nature restoring itself with all that it lacks.
For once the scales are balanced life devolves,
That human kind with animal kind slowly evolves.
Chaos will wane, subside and disappear;
The mist on the horizon will be translucent and clear.
For evolution is constant and nature is God,
For all the seeds of the Earth come from the sod.
The earth was once heaven then we turned it to Hell
Now it all starts again like some magical spell.
And nations will rise up as they did in the past,
To serve out their lease for none of them will last.