There is thunder at the doorstep. You can smell it in the air.
The oil the earth releases before it rains. It’s unmistakable. Like magic.
It’s a warning. It’s an alarm. But we aren’t alarmed by how alarmed we all are.
While everyone is armed. Charmed, I’m sure. And that’s what’s so alarming about it all.
We will make sure that we are heard. We will raise our cry. Then we will bury our face in our crotch to once again worship our screen.
It’s an amazing time to be alive. With the power of the universe in our pockets. Yet we wish we were somebody else. Some place else. In some other time. Perhaps in the past were “everyone” is “safe.”
Some folks say we’re just getting started. I’d say they’ve got a point. Though this isn’t the first time we’ve driven through this neighborhood. We may see some familiar sites.
Let’s hope we keep that by our side. Perhaps just a step ahead.
Lest we eclipse ourselves and miss the glory of the coming morning.
