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The end of the world we have told ourselves it is:
Widening eyes align with changed underpinnings,
first causes, metaphors, stories of us.
Disruption, distorted transition, fear and distrust
wildly galloping trample the field, cry out the call
“Just let me rest. Just let us lie here, ashamed, afraid
to allow such blinding disarray. So much safer
to fall, over the end of the world.”
Could we, softly, sanely, edit together heavenward pleas,
harmonize with birds, bees, thunder, settling sighs?
Meme-shattering symphony accessed by
dilated eyes to see
star-crossed patterns coalesce, myths reassessed, 
zest of surprise.
Would we recreate deity as an image more easily
caressing, 
Empathy for the 21st century?

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