The We, the I, and The Band Plays On.

We

When E.L.E. pays visit
whether from disease, famine, meteor, or thermonuclear fire
we look to God and Heaven.

We think about Extinction Level Events
when annoyingly distracted
from our own fragile mortality.

We rise to modern speculations
from “Gods” Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos
and a future for humankind.

We envision great migrations to new worlds
Terraforming Mars and beyond
to a sustaining engineered future.

Civilization morphs
to a utopian  nirvana,
our own created earths, winds, and fires.


I

I  revel in this collective prospect,
all together striving as one,
a continuium without strife.

Will there be trees
under which I can dally
watching dragonflies skip the pond water ?

Will there be thieves (or worse)
to disrupt my outworld tranquility,
or will I not have anything of “my own?”

Can I be sure a microbe won’t
hitchhike an escape
with it’s own vision of Heaven ?

Will there be a Mrs McConnell
whose baked pie smells escape
into my open windows hanging on sweet spring breeze?

Thoughts of a stainless steel and plastic life hereafter
dull my anxious anticipation
to leave these planetary bonds.

I must say for now
thoughts turn to the night of “Titanic”
where for so many the band played on.

So, Messrs. Musk and Bezos
your godly visions are very bright and visionary
but, no thank you...

My Heaven is right here.    
I’ll  just stay and watch the show
until icy waters envelop.