Children sent by heaven

stars are among us.
we are the dancing comets,
the heralds of the future,
constellations make our name,
we are the children of the past,
and the descendents of our grandchildren,
we cry out to lost stones,
raise our fists to the irony of the wailing road,
and ponder the mystery of time’s last repose.

We are the child of the present,
lost in the haze of the city,
our hands and feet touch the lights of windows,
our mouths speak truths made of thorns,
our hands build monsters of pearl.

We are the future.

We are here, the living, the wanted.