ABOUT LIFE, ABOUT EARTH Some believe life is but dust blowing in winds of chance, ‘til death stills the winds. Here, in this silent stillness; despair pervades thought, creates a world of zombies with rock hearts and ice minds. And now, even angels no longer set foot in this place for who would frequent a world where death is the final legacy and the masters choose it this way? Do the rhythms of the sea; it’s tides and flux and streams tell us there is more? No longer: not the sea, why would it? No, not the sea, but whales! Ahhh, the whales who still sing their strange songs within the waters and halfway across the globe their brethren hear and respond. But technology rips the song apart: a technology of instant gratification; of instant death: the whale dies first then the worshiper of alien thought, the maker of death – the man also dies, silenced by his own noise. No good standing upon the shore today: the song has died and yes, earth life has become nothing but a speck of cosmic dust.