An attempt at a sonnet, sort of a sonneninzio, inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnet 15:
Everything Grows (for the Bard)
By Michelle Garren Flye
Everything grows, according to Shakespeare—
From the smallest microbe to the tallest tree.
Everything rushes to ends we all fear,
Hurrying along to the only way to be free.
What happens to us in the end, do you think?
What happens at last to the things that grow?
When life’s grasp loosens on eternity’s brink,
And we find ourselves caught in the universe’s flow.
What mysteries might we at last resolve?
Some say we fade, less important than we thought.
But maybe we find our way to finally evolve?
Into something better, something we’ve always sought.
Whatever happens, we can’t deny the bard was right.
Everything grows, everything rushes into the night.