Water, fire, sky, earth
echo unrest;
Not today, not here
but close, soon enough
They read no rules
being wild as they
have always been,
taking a tithe
a mine, mine
reminding not ours
The reign of selves
riding the crust,
delivered by the grace
of science or god,
has so little to say
of consequence
to the faces of
creation.
Who worships
what is?
Isn’t it just then,
to be expected, to know,
they will speak
with eloquence
unleashed.
We are the great
and glorious nation,
without limit,
without measure
We wield the weapon
of destiny.
You believe in redesign.
Claiming more and ever
home
Interesting,
irrelevant.
See your hands for what
they are–servants
of broken prayers
Children, take hold