Resurrection Machine



your absence

with your impact.

Words are such fragile tokens.

Paper skin

that peels away in seasons.

Forage for nesting birds

and kindling fires.

We don’t even see

the impact crater’s edge

as the precipice

of some long-ago apocalypse.

Visit the bay shore,

or look down on the valley floor,

but we don’t acknowledge

the rock that made it.

Bring together who we are,

who we were,

who we will be.

Push time out of its line.

Enter into strange union

with things that go on


Never just a footnote.

Maybe a strain,

a sound,

or a flavor.

Something carried forward.

A light to bear.

An ember in the wind.

There is nothing for us,

but to make new,

and grow.

But we are stuck

in linear understanding

of ourselves.

We must reconcile

our futures

with our beginnings

and make something that lasts.

We tend to think

those places of the dead

are tombs,

but maybe we’ve been getting it

all wrong?

Could it be

that our consciousness

is technology,

and our lives

are just parts of a machine?



DJR – 2023

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