In Nature's Thrall

We are, like most of nature, so 
chronologically predictable. Time 
and the tides impel us to display and
scrupulously obey our biological 
imperatives--as creatures of stardust
and puzzling ancestry--those genetic
endowments Nature has, with great
deliberation--or is it casual abandon--
gifted us with, in accord with her plans
great and small. The great is the
mechanical wheel of the Universe,
spinning its ineluctable passage 
through the dark space of limitless
unknown. The small is gendered
creatures obeying their penchant for
procreation in their formative and
fecund years. In the fullness of time
and physical decrepitude, the libido
fails and flirtation ebbs toward a
fascination with existence, just as the 
aging Universe itself moves farther in 
distance separating galaxies and star clusters, 
the primeval fire of energy sapped amid
bright bursts of explosive collapses,
leaving the dense pull of gravitation
like a body's downward spiral to
that great, final act of extinction.