final scene

In the
movement of humanity,
from ape to angel, no
Final scene
is found. Only inexorable Time,
without end or beginning in sight.
There is
either the watchful waiting
of the nothing-doing,
or the constant flight from
Death
in make-believe and diversion. Which
Then
is the lesser evil, East or West?
Each tiny self-encircled consciousness
Comes
to sudden bloom and fades as fast,
its brief moment but
The faint whisper of
knowing what it means to be,
even as the having-been
is greeted with the irony of
Applause