The light peeks through the cracks
where consciousness and dreams overlap.
Coastlines and seas seep through the blind
like temporal prisms in time.
On a suspended plane, a transcontinental glide
lingering long after the advancing flame
where the memory of lava and ash will remain
ballast to what is swept away
under soft carpets, in strange landscapes
you escape while you can.
On diminishing roads and infinite waterways
there is no shelter
no air without sulfur,
what landmarks are left become unfamiliar,
inverted memories in turned over turf
give a glimpse of the glowing earth
that runs red
to river beds
in the impending birth of new land.
In the absence of all else
an unobstructed wind
would hit mountains head on
like something that was expected
but not fully prepared for.
The inevitability you seek to divert
joins in the rift from a hidden source,
from a network of tunnels, subliminal.
What words can be raised
to pave what has been erased?
to bring light to a cloud of ash?
Over development and endless desecration
an angry goddess passed.
The rupture deepens and they go up,
like offerings on a pyre,
the apocalyptic matchsticks of Pahoa
and the collapse of all structure
buoyed by an immense ocean
is a burning unceasing as the notion
that all surfaces remain beholden
to the forces that lie beneath them.
yakskinpocketnotes 