NaPoMo NZ Day 7 - end to beginning

[Lizzie]

Christchurch - a poem (of sorts)

In time, I'll move to Christchurch, always building, unfinished project, like Berlin. And follow the Canterbury plains to the foothills of the Southern Alps, sprung from the collision of the Australasian and  Pacific plates. Thus is land born, as it has been born always, before there was a New Zealand, before Australia, before Gondwana, and before Pangea, before Rhodinia, and before supercontinents that have not left a trace, not even in cratons, where ancient zircon lies entombed within ancient zircon. The Pacific ocean is disappearing beneath Aoraki, and being reborn near Antarctica. We, the mayfly children, in the long summer of the earth, are scattered to the winds and are reborn where we fall as bullrush, weed, then become the wind again, on and on, until the sun turns red in the fullness of time, and the oceans dry out and scatter in the solar wind to reach other worlds, to stir the seed of life anew, and continue the project of building.

Nice one.