Out of the death of stars, new worlds are born
often much harsher, harder to navigate,
to settle into - they have no comfort zones,
no plush wildgrasses. But that’s how worlds mutate.
And not just worlds. For anything to grow
something else must wither. The wildgrass must die
for the leaping gazelle and the carnivore.
Creation and growth need deaths as stimuli.
To maintain the order of the universe
to create, recreate, transform and renew
the stars self-destruct and the wildgrass withers,
the river vaporises then drips as dew.
Yet how difficult! - it is to accept
the imploded star, the shrunk river that’s left.