In a time of sky-sailing frigates,
and bare feet upon sandier beaches–
In a time of android omens
and floor-wide human deletions,
Creator becomes God
as He wrestles with machine demons.
When the crows perch upon antennas
as opposed to telephone posts,
When the dogs no longer wail with sirens,
and silence sets with the sun
Where will we make ourselves known?
Where will our droplets fall?
Or will they even fall at all?