Witness To Destruction

If the world was ripping apart at the seams; and the sky fell off it’s high seated pedestal and everyplace sparked from faulty wiring and lit up in fiery glitter and the oceans raised a fist and left every corner drenched in salty sweet necessity and the trees uprooted, hiked up their skirts and ran away and the animals crafted their own transportation device to float back to their birthplace and the winds, out of boredom, spiraled out of control Would we notice? Would we raise our head five inches upwards witness the beginning of the end? Could we notice? Could we peel our eyes away from the personal news device gripped to death in sweaty palms? Should we notice? Should we bother to even take action in the face of catastrophe? Good thing the world is not ripping apart at the seams Or else who knows what we would do.