When wind slaps wet palms against panes
And tempos twist tear drops, triptychs, and time bells
into Untaught meanings, our well-to-do knowledge
Cracks sky-songs and creates death knells.
Spirits drown in blood and sweat and
Salt-stained faces because we have forgotten
Mysteries once so easily understood.

The world of ideas comes through our tongues,
But we use mouths to Bite instead of Kiss.
When humans break through the barrier,
That reef rife with strife and dissonance,
Our tribe will ride beside the light on
Comet tails and ion trails through the skies.

Still, unless we break our bad habit of hacking
Kith and kin to bits with buzz saws, bombs and bullets,
Our human sea will suffer drought, and
Alien archeologists might visit,
Perhaps study our barren bones,
And wonder
Why we all died.

I spewed my anger as a child and thought it done,
But my will would not let me stream by without
Seeing how each human laments fate,
Yet though we share the plight,
We cannot relate amid our own midnights.
We ration our compassion,
Saving it to dole out to proper causes,
Well-phrased clauses, and desperation seen only on screens.
Our tense is past and tepid,
And remorse rarely replaces pity in our eyes.
But I am rage-filled and ready to burst with it.
I cannot write these words without wishing they
Would take flight like harpies and flay humanity, ripping
Unworthy flesh asunder with claws and whip-tails, nails and flails.

But I see my tirade tires you.
Perhaps I should switch tracks and use a different tack.
Perhaps you can be persuaded to leave apathy
Through some explanation of the possibilities.

I will be unguarded as my mind-stream trembles with
Positive intention because my intent is to create
A tent where humanity can shelter from storms,
Where we can take refuge amid cosmic chaos.

We belong in the stars with parts and peace pipes
Trading tales with blue-blooded brothers
Who traveled so far from birthplaces past Andromeda
Merely to say hello.
We belong with fingers loamy from earth,

Tender tenders of trees and
Sweet singers of wind-songs.
Our times could stretch past mortal with the right
Waves and nano-friends as we create technologies
Fit for freedom instead of designs
So dedicated to slipping leashes about our throats
And blinders across our starry eyes.

Instead, we will reach to our neighbors
And offer a friendly hand.
Boy scouts, bishops, and bridge-builders
Will use their arts to craft collective consciousness
Until each of us understands an individual’s impact.
The heights to which we can climb are mountains,
But this now-moment seems a dark and frightening valley.

We all claim blindness, but really,
We are only failing to see each other.
Try looking me in the eyes
When you speak your words to me.
Perhaps then, you will see what I see.

Until our race can trace compassion
Past the alpha and omega,
We will languish on greatness’s edge
The infinite is no smaller than a slice of sky
That slipped, stealthy, behind your eye, and
Trod directly past hair, skin, meat, and bone
To reach into the marrow of my soul.