Some days I feel we’re so close,
The mountains have begun whispering again,
The sky is thick with aliveness.
Some days I feel the stirring,
The eyes peering towards the last of us,
Their voices becoming audible.
These days I sense the clarity mounting,
building new structures within our bodies,
unfolding like fractal tree branches.
These days the clouds are talking,
speaking in new languages of our destiny,
unfurling what’s real across the sky.
A hundred thousand eyes open,
Wide and curious,
staring at us,
But they won’t turn away,
It’s too late now for that.
We lost this war we never meant to fight,
a long time ago.