If the past should crumble
upon our ears and the depths
of history should break into
our eyes, leaving a path
of the deaf and sightless,
to carry on the war.

Then the world could reverse
rotation tomorrow and all
we would know is that we fell.
Feeling the warmth of the sun
as it rose in the west,
and growing cold as it set
on the eastern horizon.

Did you realize the weight
of the path you set in motion?
Or did you just ignore the child,
who cried all alone clinging
to the sleeve of a parent who would
never wake to smile, or crease brows
at the fire falling from the sky.

So as they rain down, from the air,
and build walls around our friends,
we sit and laugh in comfort despite
our blindness. Filling the empty space
inside of our chest with the knowledge
that we are the lucky ones, who see no
evil, and hear no evil, but pour ours
down upon those who can.

[Knowing perhaps one day the world
will right itself, or perhaps spin on,
to discover what we did now. Our history
is burning a hole in the future,
in which we'll sit and smile in our misery,
that shows how wrong we really were.]

03/04/2004

Posted on 03/04/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies