From miles above, we're all one. We're radiant. We're
working. I can still see the ocean's breaking waves, even
in the pitch-black sky. A summer scene painted on a
stained-glass window from my memory. Like mosaics,
separate but equally important; essential. This pulling
apart brings us closer to the other side. This pulling
apart, rejoin and rejoice in the whole which we've
created. It's only our gods who have the position of
witnessing our cities that erupt like lava into roads
that divide landscapes. Clouds of smoke rise and fall
over us, covering us securely in their blanket. And there
we are dashing over it all, praying never to fall, but
managing to do so.