No doubt, they never knew when, how
Or why they were doomed
The previous generation of earthlings
Have long disappeared, tracelessly
Except for some thinning memories
Hidden in earth’s heart, or drifting
In a corner of an unknown world

But we are different: we make
Metals and plastics besides books
To survive the judgment day
Land collapses, ice ages, nuclear wars
Or alien strikes, although they may eventually
Weather away with the sun

Then will come a monstrous ant
Followed by swarms of tree spirits
On the second day, the ant gives them all shapes
On the third, the spirits begin their earthy lives
On the fourth, the ant flies into the outer space
To prevent evil from returning to earth

On the land used to be tree stumps
Debris of all man-made products
There are now only trees growing
Growing silently in the moonlight
Above deeply buried human souls

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