I’m in the Chemical Valley (the Number of Eyes Vary)

I look out and canyons of calamity 
stretch up towards me,
because I am here for but a blink in the grand scheme, 
but my waste products will witness the dance of the stones
and the changing ground that
will eventually no longer bear our feet.
The packaging of my life 
may get a glimpse of eternity.
An outline of this body
and all the souls consumed by me, me, me.

Even still,
it’s always my present predicament.
I’m over being strung out on sentiment.
What of the way the river dances?
I celebrate every hour of this day 
like each chime of the clock
is my own personal Christmas.