to you

Look here:
there's iron in your veins,
trains in your blood,
the hearts of burnt-out stars
that thundered in the dark ten billion years,

here, still -
your heart that beats, unbeaten, still.

This treasure cost your mothers, fathers, tons -
their innocence;
your innocence,
their will.

Until
we turn our faces each from each,
each child of dust holds heaven in its hands
and stands

a life spat in the cold night's empty eye
one spark struck, deep in crushing dust
ignites a sun

and one lit flame makes death itself untrue
and every movement pierces stillness through
the cosmos melts down, and is forged anew

in you