They just keep going up, up over the neighbors' houses, over parking lots full of gas-guzzlers, over sun-burnt fields, and over the flood that caused that pregnant woman to give birth in a tree. Too much rain and too much sun. I'm tired of worrying if someone's daddy will morph into Noah. Then the sun gets beaten into submission on my windshield, into my eyes. How would the view of Earth be for Oil Company executives flying above a galactic design of coordinates on Earth, indicative of a string of severe misjudgments and lies from the board room? The scientifically-poetic pulse that illustrates how we're still here at all is akin to air pockets after an earthquake or terror attack. Or should I say between them?
When looking back on Earth's twisted atmosphere of clouds, blue sky and awaiting land, I begin to wonder for what or whom it waits. Could it be the deserving ones or an artificial, intelligent life force? Will the people we've been waiting for crash into our water and save us?
Questions abound for the ne'er-do-well. That they write anew the history of time reminds me of the U.S.S. Enterprise talking about us in whispers and sorrow as the failed past that sent them, needy, to the stars.
According to Stephen Hawking, even that may not be enough. We also need to invent cures for unseen and/or unmentioned diseases. Some things we just can't cure. Might the perpetuation of the immorality affecting individuals' rights be among them?
Through the years, the TV screen has shown us the man-made and natural disasters that have taken over regions of the planet, not well-synchronized for the nursing of their victims. My own travels have largely been to places that didn't seem to visibly be in the process of eroding, even in Israel when I visited decades ago. But the years have uncovered the effects of immorality and irresponsibility. I could say laziness, but many people who have never held public office have wanted the laws to change so that they could recycle. And hybrids are still embryos, if that, in the automotive industry. Immorality and irresponsibility could be claimed by corporations who would rather spend money on the blankets for their children rather than their future homes...something they ought to be used to hearing by now.
But those dancing red lines tell us to keep up the mantra in creative melodies. One of them just has to hit the right coordinates.
