We cannot linger much longer in the old ways;
They are breaking down, crumbling above our heads,
cracking apart beneath our feet,
ready to bury us, to swallow us whole
Their paint is flaking away, finally, after decades–centuries–
of painting-over the glaring reality
that these ways only work for a few
and these ways are the only way
the world can work;
We are reaching the end of the time of blindness
I can feel it
There is no waiting,
there is no anticipating.
There is only being.
We have started being the change
as those before us were the change for their time,
as those after us will be the change for their time.
We are the change for ours,
for each other,
as we always have been
as we always must be.