Perhaps one day this will all be over.
I will travel the world in a light-powered plane, light as a glider, sun-powered.
Light and light, light upon light, and visit the animals.
So many dark and probable dreams, why not one light, sweet, crazy dream of hope?
I will travel the world. I have no heart for travel now, but then . . . then . . .
Chasing the sun, horizon to horizon, colors blend in shifting layers
Sky blue, pale green, pale yellow — violet, pink and gold, fiery orangy red at the horizon
Sunrise/sunset’s brave display. Then the subtle dawn and dusk,
fajr and maghrib, all hearts at prayer.
Landing briefly, dodging magnificent stormclouds
Smell of water, thunder smell as ozone stimulates the brain.
Dark blue piles of watered air a thousand fathoms high,
lightning crackles, but we are safe on the ground — then up again.
In the open plane, the breath of sky, of wind and light.
The whole wide sky a clear blue bowl of light.
Deep in deserts, sparkling stars. Then to fragrant jungles, lush and green
To meet the returning animals.
Jungle cats who slink and sleep, monkeys shriek and chatter, scolding.
Snakes even, and parrots everywhere.
The ordinary madness of the life we had before this hell.
Seas of buffalo and elk, wave on wave they surge across the land
Yaks and camels, bears and seals, dogs and wolves, great sounding whales
Each in its place, and each restored. With only those humans left who love them.
Meadow larks and nightingales sing, and the evening and the morning were the first day.
I greet the returning animals with love, marvel at their presence, and play with the koalas.