Tomorrow

Far off, it has begun to walk the planet, first it must be buried in a nearby field, while flights of dreams migrate from unrealistic expectations. Meanwhile, worms' imperceptivity reshape reality. Fresh perceptions bloom like cherry trees in Death Valley neglected vineyards are resuscitated one vine at a time. Tomorrow will show up darkly, it may forestall or bolster, we may only know for sure when the roof of the sky is raised, even so, night still roams somewhere weeding out exhausted stems of light. It is just diurnal time dipping in and out of our eyes, it’s only the ever displaced and ever prodigal exchanging old and new testaments of hope upon a circular racetrack, one not at all of our making.