Swimming with the tigers
I wave to the sharks on the shore
Steeped in tears the day breaks away
Like a string of pearls jerked from about a neck
Each tiny universe cascading from doom
To rebirth, renaissance daily,
Only the format at our discretion
Unspools over the lips of our smiles
Our ancestors feared falling from trees
While we work for the luxury to divine omens
And the world’s roundness is perfected
In the hungry bellies of soon-to-be saints.
Hoot says the owl
Wide awake at 3 am
As we frolic at the end of the world.
He can finally get some sleep.