Skyfire

No one asked me directly, but here I am keeping the sky from burning.

The birds are singed and naked, the ground looks as if it is moving

Like we’re on a bad acid trip, but it’s just every single bird walking to work.

The animal kingdom is utterly confused.

In a sense, the heat is good. If it burns, that means it working,

But first-degree burns are an inconvenience to me.

I spit words with brazen breaths and fluidity towards the clouds catching fire.

The skyfire has halted.

One by one, fellow humans join in with my chorus, and within minutes,

all the billions around the planet are singing outward. It is so loud,

The earth’s crust and mantle begin to shift. The plate tectonics sort of hum

A melody in a pentatonic scale, sounds Buddhist, maybe in G#?

Gee, I don’t know, can we change the world working together?

The continents shifting bring us closer than ever before.

United, we feel awkward and sheepishly say I’m sorry,

But the birds still can’t fly.