A midnight chorus sings me

awake. Warnings of laughter

and future mistakes.

Past behind yet further ahead:

obsolete technology, like

living dead.

Whisper ghosts and

daemons, too. Echoing caves,

ancient sigils, true.

Clouds and dust from

ear to ear. Shadows flex

while children fear.

Listen careful, sure-footed

Goat, for Mountains move

and Rivers float.

Old King, set down your heavy

crown, for Swords alone

in such realms, drown.

Eat what plants, drink which tea,

let every breath be

ceremony.

The threshold cross, angels

abreast, sporting royal

Lion’s-heart crest.

Listen, child, the Coquì’s

song. While the Earth trembles,

our love resounds.

-AT