the weather is our collective reflection in our sky mirror.
this is unarguably clear to me as i try to find space for myself,, my heart, my lungs, in the ferocity of the red sun, yellow haze, black smoke,the terror that is the los alamos fire... the forces that scream at me, strangle me into PAYING ATTENTION to the climate i am unconsciously helping to create...
i pray for rain.
my actions, and my thought-actions, are not an accident. they are calculated now, deliberate...if i am to be creating, i want this to be a conscious act, and a positive one; bringing vitality and not destruction.
here's a new-ish poet to whom i've come; he speaks about becoming weather:
Becoming Weather, 21
by Chris Martin
I was out interviewing clouds amassing
the notes of a sky pornographer while patches
of the city subnormalized
by fear of fear like a reef bleaching closed
I took to the streets
looking for a human velocity
feeling disequilibrium
heavy in the abundance
of summer light
the silent apathy
of stars which is neither
silent nor apathetic
I am becoming weather
and
I don't
plan on doing
it alone
