The sky leaned down, put its mouth to my ear,
and whispered its subtle sky secret.
The message itself was familiar by now,
no translated subtitles were required.
When our ancient home beckons, who among us
can refuse its request to stop what we’re doing and listen?
There is a gap between the moment of disillusionment
and the moment of awakening – it is filled with sky.
It’s the place the finger points to, where no human words apply.
If I were to travel across the land, either on foot or by the wheel,
I could string together borrowed words and phrases to describe
my overland adventures, for the sake of all who seek to know.
However, if I crossed that border between the earth and sky,
I would be in a country where no language is necessary.
Because I too am a water being, the clouds
would need no awkward introduction.
They would recognize me as one of their own,
without having to rely on imagination.
Together, we’d silently drift over the dry expanse, happy
with no destination — just pure sky water awaiting its time
to pour down and nourish the thousand thirsty things below.
The timeless sky itself would remain unmoved,
pregnant with celestial sky secrets.
It will remain in place to witness a world
in the midst of its last mass extinction.