Lights, Awareness-Action!
People think the people in power matter. Or they are significant enough. It’s not the human we need to hold accountable, not anymore. It’s the money they hold dear. It’s the system that allows for their wealth to accumulate, generation after generation.
Give us a poor man’s story to think there is anyway out of this bottomless pit.
Could be a Mecca of human connection, cultures oscillating in the way their ancestors dance through them—I hear the beads, I hear the bells, I hear the bones. Jingles and jangles that seep in deep. Knees that go high, bodies rather rise. Taking the knee a distance memory. Arguing over the smallest things. Not seeing the larger scene. People on the foreground, humans all in the background. Earth playing the role of the stage, snacks in the dressing room, linger long in a mirror.
Universe doing all the lighting, stage crew that moves like the laws of physics—pulley rope at the hand.
Who has the sound?
Earth comes online, humans now at the call. Lights, cameras, action now is movement, born crying, as they smack us with identity crisis. All while navigating perpetual housing crisis cycles, land shifting right underneath my feet—can’t hold steady as the earth starts to qauke. Trying to awake!
Weight been displaced—land redistributed in human construction. Faulty lines long etch in time—cracks like bets made in the sand. Spilling spilling spilling through the hourglass. Sundial stick in the sand. Blood pouring through their veins—time creeping up in the shadows as the Sun goes down. Venus on the horizon, evening star come once again. Like a pearl arisen, a beauty all their own.
Waging through the waves as war grows in their minds. Consciousness fractured as the earth shatters. Chasing the land, dragging bodies through the sand. Leaving tracks through the minds, erased in time as the tides come in—as the tides recede. Like a breath being pulled at from a distance gravity works well at. Mass and energy, the momentum now pulled back in, a sphere appeared in pure manifestation. A reflection of a cycle tuned to phases, ocean risen, the tides returning. A cradle of emaculant birthing—still stirrring.
Stirring, stirring, stirring.
Seas are churning.
Heat whirling in pockets of acclimation.
Energy under constant pressure of transformation.
Cold waters rushing in—environments always changing. Conditions of survival interweaved right into the environment. Belonging—a whole speciation process in cycles of life and death. Resilience building up, intenrallly, externally, consciousness surviving its own stream.
Collective the journey, now what of the birthing?
What’s holding up the process, chokeholding the progress in political shambles? Is this the beauty they had in store for us? Signed away our rights as the world birthed us? Left to fend for ourselves as the rest of the world mistook us. Each step of the way weights placed in silence. Scales tipping tipping tipping. Energy to price ratio keeps rising, more numbers to consider, our debts a shadow filling up inside a ditch dug in the sand. Each generation another notching, measurements given in family tree fractures.
Bodies returning back to the earth—deadmen wondering in their minds. Words drifting in the wind, whole storms forming in their receptions. Humans in the eye of an octogon storm—raging longer than the 40 years Saturns hexagon storm first formed.
Mission unclear when the rules are shaken every four years—tracking hurricanes year, progress watches lived as fear of life rises. Nothing ever stays clear, give it alphabetical names to watch its procession. See less of the beauty more of the horrors, fundings moving hands faster than sand falling down the hourglass. Stocks rising rising rising, energy now shifted, whole humans now in neat little boxes. Tied to their work life ratio.
Stagnant in their acceptance of lives, their own stones in the flow of time. Weights pulled down by Gravity, thrown in the sandpits. Humans creating their own gold, in pressures left untold.
Dug into again and again, whole cultures circling like vultures, hoarding like dragons of ancient lore, death and gold, decay in all the shimmer. Glitter on dead bodies left in the dark, in morning sunlight rainbow confetti now litter.
A weevil left to eat through all the grains—varieties of earth bounty, a harvest worth a festival that brings so many back together. Fragments of one whole, piecing itself into a shape we can sustain. Geometry our own creation.
Trusting in the human to persevere through the worse experience.
Patterns seen externally—chartering the stars for all of time.
Connecting the dots internally—patterns emerging in darkness.
Connecting stars from one heart to another, constellation reforming on Earth.
Remembering where we all come from.
Stardust in our ashes— colors of the whole cosmos, water rehydrating the sensation. Human shape the structure as consciousness flows!
Life coming out of all possibilities, humans writing out the probabilities. Being their own variable in a society with constant rising pressures.