The Agile

There’s remarkably little
Agility in the known
Universe. Things move and burn,

But outside of Earth’s surface,
You don’t see a lot of chase,
Not much pursuit and escape,

None at all, to be precise.
You frame this in terms of life
And the quest for life. But life

Could be quietly growing
Its humble lichen patches
All over the face of god,

As it’s been called, the cosmic
Background radiation splotch.
More to the point, why’s nothing

Frantically running around?
For some little while now, Earth
Has writhed with pursuits and flights.

From such jumpy perspective,
The grandly burning, stately
Night’s vacant of the agile.