The Debt

When the Earth,
A molten orb,
Swung hot in the void,
And there was not
A single living cell
Abroad, 
The oceans seared
And the moon
Jammed up the sky-
Frank nothingness
Not a thought of us,
Or anything that
Crawled or slid or flew-
From the settling dust
A billion years gone by
A freakish first step 
Somehow different
One-off, yes, alive!
Unlocated yet real,
Such eons spent in
Liquid frames
Heedless of the
Death around.
Can it it be thought of,
Fathomed, borne?
This strange life-game,
So utterly found.