Echo of Ecclesiastes

By Esther Chan ‘28

This life is but a soft exhale

vanishing into the ether.

More ephemeral than a dying ember,

we are the glow that fades to

charcoal, to the quiet night.

Imperceptible universe’s clock,

hours negligible, centuries are

smaller than uncertainty.

Our lives are merely the sun’s 

final gaze as it slips the horizon.

Drops of water in churning tide,

we dissipate before we

know who we are.

Without Him, all is meaningless.

Here, we dance like drunken fireflies,

one amongst a thousand others,

weary radiance echoing

identity reflected, ourselves,

merely pinprick mirrors

to the mighty stars that

share our mortality.

Moonlight fallen—

and not even that.

Fashioned from dust,

to dust returned

as fiery leaves meander

through the fingers of autumn.

Finished, we lose ourselves,

finite amongst infinite.

Contributed by Esther Chan. Esther is a sophomore at Harvard College studying Chemistry & Physics.

The photograph for this article was contributed by Charissa Shang. Charissa is a senior at Harvard College studying History of Art & Architecture with a secondary in Art, Film, & Visual Studies.