What if

Every word you said

Would somehow matter

In the future

What if

Every move you made

Determined

Your future

What if

You could follow your path

In life

Follow in God's channel

And see things

Before they happen

Is that

Time travel

Or a warning

What if

You saw

Yourself

In the future

Dead

What if

You changed that fate

And looked back

Into the future

And everyone else

Was dead

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The Fire and the Grass

First Contact

There was a time when snow fell as white angels and rain poured down like tears from the heavens There is nothing but fire now Burning Throbbing Pulsing Piercing Somewhere in the distance Somewhere behind me Where I can no longer see

Outside the cold lingers by the icy pond But there is no snow Dark limbs no longer dare to reach They watch solemnly as the golden grasses climb Praying to the heavens for sweet rain But there is only fire now Casting long, deadly shadows across the outside world The grasses are dying

Inside it is warm Warm from the fire beating upon the glass before us The frost outside licks the glass, glaring daringly at the heat locked inside It won’t be locked forever It’s growing closer now

The cattails lie dormant under a sheet of ice It seems they’ve always been that way Small, brown birds hop onto the limbs Hovering dangerously above the sun burnt mulch I watch them play and wonder if they can feel the cold If they can feel death in their tiny claw as they grasp onto the cattails If they can feel the fire moving

It’s burning against my back I can’t see it I can smell it I can feel it The musty smoke perfumes my lungs I never thought I would face it My hands are cold against the glass Debating the contrast my body is confused So am I

I wonder if the birds are confused too I wonder when the fire will get them I wonder if they know it’s coming They can’t escape it by closing their eyes They don’t seem like they’re trying I wonder what they’re thinking I wonder if they are happy They seem happy When they close their eyes

I am becoming the glass To separate the fire From the outside world It doesn’t feel like fire anymore It feels heavy And hot And scared The fire is scared I guess the fire has no eyes to close

Somehow, someway there is green grass outside It feels insulting that it grows so lavishly when all around it has been reduced to nothing The birds won’t go near it I wonder why What has it done wrong It seems happy I wonder if the fire will touch it I wonder if the cattails were once as happy

There will once more come time when snow falls as white angels and rain pours down like tears from the heavens There is nothing now but fire Burning Throbbing Pulsing Piercing It’s here behind me But so are the cattails So are the birds And so is the grass

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