The wind in the leaves strums the sweltering sun, a laden shimmer and a blinding flash, all that a star might leave spinning in its wake. The thick air stirs enough to bump shoulders and stand too close, staring heavy too near your face, that feeling that it would all be tolerable if you just had a little more room to breathe. The aging day lit is stark contrast, bright skins and deepening shadows, chirrups and the knocking of a woodpecker somewhere very near, the wind abrupt and indecisive. One moment as fleet as any demon, the next sulking like mighty Achilles in his perfumed tent. The earth churns in the deep beneath, the livid core purses its lips. Hush, hush children— be patient for your fresh hell. The sun heads west as I would in a perfect world. But the world’s imperfect, so I watch beyond it.
A fly alights upon my thigh, the blind dog pants and pants. A cautious squirrel forages through the remnants of today’s offerings, slow with the scene and the heat. Alone is the burden of proof of the waiting in the wings. The empty almost on top of everything, then the impudence of offense after offense filling the old skin with its native state of righteous rage. The back fence aglow with these sunset strips, the ever incandescent foreshadowed tomorrow beaming until it breaks, the stars stippled next night and the begetting moon. The black coffee burns a little going down. Even the flame almost smiles.
Things are ablaze, things are boiling over, much of it outside of our influence and some the very symbol of our skin. The fear is awake, and always aimed at those that don’t think it’s all that. This is as it is, to be awake in the world of what may be. Our power together only reinforced by those who would beat us down. We walk in the field of death and pain and sorrow. We take our sin wages each day on the chin. Our bonds are deeper than blood, our kinship stronger than words. We live as the sacred oath to the other, to abide and strive for everyone’s best. The struggle is a wisdom tradition, we lead as we follow, knowing the danger, singing as we march into the storm.