We belong here,
Ancient mariners casting bones,
Apologizing for the eyes in our heads,
Stargazers, wierdos, prestidigitators
On private trips to the moon.
Let the truth have its way with us,
Let the brain stumble from its hiding place.
The end of what?
Shadows kneel in the dunes,
We lock our hearts into idle not sure
Of this world or the next.
Hear the sea coming,
Say it again – we are spared nothing,
We belong here.
–A pastiche from the poems of Yusef Komunyakaa
