Poems from D y i n g E u r o p e

What if from Tundra to cities
My people refine themselves
Until we are one finger of

The seventeen hands of the Cosmos
I’m alone on the roof
With an unlimited number of stars
Who look back upon me
With an unlimited number of eyes

We are souls created from
The same music, murmuring
Mantras of evolution

What if from Nomads to star-divers
We become custodians
To repent from centuries of destroying
Would we not then make choices
To recognize that God is dancing

In the universe and we must
Be a gift unto the worlds
Or else in gulps of light, go extinct

Blindly like any species, that failed
To arrive at a sustainable balance
I’m holding a cup of water
To the Milky Way
And she’s burning gold down on me

For I’ve become a connoisseur