Nocturne in Black and Gold

Falling Rockets
James Whistler, 1875

we are falling
where
the world
wants us,
rising up in smoke
and raining down
in flames.

 we are rockets
when
we want
the world
to rupture
to release
to open up
its pain.

This is the world where we wait to watch the sky swallow us whole and we are not afraid. We watch it collapse with wonder and welcome stars with outstretched arms as the night envelops us in a crashing, fiery embrace. We are still here, we are home, ready to re-build and re-make.