nothing quite like forty days of rain to give the mind some time to think
or a million years of blistering heat to boil us down to our bones,
so we may see who we are below the nonsense

below the buffers we've built, the feelings we've buried -

are we pure, deep down?
how will we know?
how will we find our inborn truths and
the quirks that make us who we are?

the skies are our saviors
and in their sheen we find eyes
watching our every shift and step
and in their star-spotted skin are
the memories of the ancestors we left behind

for when the light goes out and when
the heat leaves our bones we will
know this is the beginning of the end