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essay: #083: Olympus Moon


Step through the rabbit hole.
Onto the other side.

See flames lick.

The winged statues.

Of ancient Olympia.

Doomsday vaults.

Taking shape.

Svalbard archipelagos.
To preserve.

4.5 million batches of seeds.

A biodiversity bank.

For our very survival.

“So, dear future….”

Whispers someone close.

Orbits my sky.
And blood, red moon.
Halos, all round.
My wings of desire.

# transmission ends #