Mud amassed globs 
of humble sincerity,
peculiar bacteria. 

Tales told prevented 
imminent deaths as we
reached the unthinkable,
consciousness arisen,
a chaotic creativity,
rationality orders chaos. 


                     In a billion years,
we’ll be so fused
there will be no race.

                     In a million years,
words will no longer 
only be from Earth. 

                     In a thousand years, 
our perception will
have changed from
irrational to aesthetic,  
emotional to stoic, 
fearful to scientific,  
impulsive to creative  
because if not, we’ll
be washed from here 
to nowhere by then.

It started as a story, 
the book was ignored. 
Left alone, ants, rain
will eat what remains. 

The mud we’ve built
will be washed away. 

Books of historical 
relevance diluted 
in an ocean of bias
that submitted us 
to the ground until 
we turned into slaves 
trapped in Plato’s cave. 

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the end, to the end, they remain. - Ode of Remembrance by Laurence Binyon
5 billion years ago, Earth wasn’t here. 50 thousand years ago, art was our history. A hundred years ago, we learned how old the Earth was and we with so little peace, have done so much. Inhumanity has stopped us for so long, struggled to find a resting embrace, where will we go if Earth descends to a fiery hate? There’s no where to go. We’re united by blue blood. Recognize the rising heat. Stand united, be stoic, scientific, aesthetic, creative, worthly patient until we learn to be truly rational with a loving mind.
Signature Lina Ru