from the eyes of the littlest oldest beings

pray, because it is the apocalypse but also the birth of a new world,

reeking of waning velociraptor breaths and waxing bee hummingbird exhalations.

old is this world, where the Spores were eye-witness to coelacanths crystalizing.

still rubbing up against the swelling and ebbing of time,

eternally watching the bedrock of existence shift, shape, and stay the same.