WE HEAR YOU

He loves looking at the sky,
particularly at night for he knows
someday they will contact him,
and if not him, someone else
who, like him, loves looking at the sky.
He has no idea what the message will be
he isn’t sure he, or anyone, will
be able to understand it, but
he is certain he or that other someone
will know the message has been received,
and that will be enough; leave it
to others to decipher things.
That is something his kind has been doing
for millennia, though he fears if he receives
the message, or someone like him does,
understanding or not, it will mark
the moment of the death of God, or the birth
of a new, another, God, or just maybe
they will rewrite the ancient books
and hearing God’s voice will no longer
lead instantly to madness, which
he imagines to be madness itself.

WHERE?

Set aside for a moment
the sheer insanity of it all.
Pretend that this is not
your concern, it is merely
something that you inherited,
never wanted, would gladly
part with on the simplest
of requests you doubt
will ever be forthcoming.
Is this why you treasure it
and cling to it so tightly
or is there still the slightest
but of the magic that once
attracted you, that you thought
you had put aside, knowing
full well you never could.