They made the mistake of leaving a message on the wall.
Something for eyes of the future to gawk at
as if those same eyes who saw sandstorms fall to the floor...
Ever the rushing downpour around us—
our hands reaching out to it,
hoping to fill a cup with just a few drops
and drink enough to feel a part of the waking sky...
It wasn’t always like this
The walls used to move in the distance
slow rolling thunder too far away to hear
and rivers gently flowing beneath my feet...