On becoming

Born
created
from an egg
waxed
mother-of-pearl
pure form
biding time—
that right moment
unleash all things
for humanity
then for our sins
lightning
thunder marks the sky
heaven bursts in continuous splats of rain
down to
rich earth
fertile land
arid soil
acrid dirt
vegetation—
green land marks
little do you know, tomorrow they will be cleared
make room for stainless steel
artificial light boxes
stacked one on top of the other
mass genocide
even the Immortals no longer exist
life reigns full of politics
this, never in your plan
three parts, simple—
the sky
the land
the sea
how could we have got it wrong...