All in Good Time

The maple, oak, sycamore and beech are neck-n-neck in their sprint to the sun.
Boulders blur in their free-fall to the molten core
from which they came.
Mountains swell to greet the clouds, even as others are buffed down to their bases.
The globe dons and sheds species and ice sheets,
the way a teenage girl gets ready for a big date.
Planets are packed together from errant fragments falling through the void, like a teenage boy
forming perfect snowballs.
Stars that speckle the skies, disappear one by one,
as they're blown out like birthday candles or
blown up like fireworks.
Galaxies flair up, do-si-do, merge and fade, the way the tops of the maple, oak, sycamore and beech do,
each lap around the sun.