The final black super-hole of the cosmos
Will implode back into God
If you think of the flowering now
The mille-fleur of galaxies we see
It will be the last seed saved
The seed that lies years
In the spring ground so ready
To be remembered again
Even now in our brief bodies
The still black hole of the soul
Swallows the everyday sun
And a whole new army of stars
Will have to be needed
To pull us stem-like
Up out of the ground
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