Scribble on scrawl, breath upon word upon breath upon word,
Wasted
As our fragile – no, frail – no, brittle world
Threatens to implode
Or shred
Or simply unravel.
Ages and ancients collide in the sands of time, the sands of life
And how can we know? How can we see what they see, when they see it all, when time and space thrash and simmer, meld
To the boiling point
And erupt.
And the watchers wait.