We see the future in jet packs and zombies,
Rosey rainbows / blackest black,
Hopes and dreams / nightmare screams -
Yet what of future past?
It was all a fog.
Blankets and sheets of unknown,
Draped over faith and doubt.
A slow rolling reveal of unfathomable nuance,
And the courage to find out.
Long steps on a short dock we’re born walking,
Long lines in a short play we’re born talking,
Long waits for a short break we’re born stalking,
And a lifetime of figuring out.
You can damn this fog but it’s all you’ve known,
It’s where you’re from — how you’ve grown.
We’ll probably never know a jet pack zombie past
So we just walk our planks,
Until the last.
