playing the trump card

whether we know it or not,
we have lost our way
though some rejoice
in voices shrill and hot
some feel it like the shadow of a destroyer,
a thing that will eat itself
after it consumes all else.
in a world gone suddenly cold and strange,
today we are not who we thought.
all mirrors are cracked,
we are ugly to ourselves,
changed or changing,
and what we shall become
no one seems to know---
we all reap in the whirlwind what some sow.
time and past time to rise up,
standing ready with light and water,
for the way we go
leads through dark forest minds
and burning desert hearts
where we are beset by ghosts
we never laid to rest,
fathers who didn't know best,
wild hungers never fed,
appeals to arid gods
weaned on stone and sand.
something has died,
and we don't yet know
what will burn in its passing,
what shall come of its ashes---
a black egg hatching light,
or a long and fiery night...