A Space

The air is thick

A silent trick

The dust motes climb

On stolen time

A tremor widens deep

While others vast asleep

The glass pane softly sighs

With orange painted dyes

A tide of flesh

The city's crush

A constant press

A frantic rush

The billion-throated chant

A world gone deaf and numb

A nature we supplant

The final, awful sum

I close my eyes

And build a space

Of vacant skies

A slower pace

I dream a land

With room to stand

A single grain of sand

Held in a quiet hand

The river's toxic plea

For every mouth to feed

A wilting, poisoned tree

Born of rampant seed

Identities erased

We all become the same

A spirit grown so tame

A part of the great game

I close my eyes

And build a space

Of vacant skies

A slower pace

I dream a land

With room to stand

A single grain of sand

Held in my empty hand

Let the fever break

For pity's own sake

The grinding gears forsake

A world we can remake

The great exhale begins

The clarity within

Just the wind

Just the wind

And the mend