While Summits Crash the polluted seas

While Summits Crash the polluted seas

The silver hope that gathers God at dawn
On spent days of long-scattered faith
I to the sacrifice of my hour have come
In broken intervals and debts and canyons
That trace, where my visions used to run

Perhaps I was not gifted at prophecy
Or the unheard aches of my own life
I didn’t live for success or to consume

I ate and drank and loved, to create
And while my veins were steeped in the profound
My blood was the sap of poverty
My pulse could feel the identity of others
Moreover those minorities who had no voice

In this estranged world, where we are so
Desensitized to the suffering of others
So unenlightened regarding our differences

And naive to our shared history
The bell-rope of gold that lifts me up
At twilight to dispatch me into the night
Well it won’t hold forever, one day it will snap
And I will be nothing more than the whispers

I left behind in time will not hang, or whistle or gamble
I milk-bright will be left a flute note to the chiselled wind
And in the transparency of centuries that blur
On top of each other, what we were will be lost
In an echo of machine-learning that outsteps our biology.