They hear the rumbles
deep within our earth—
doomsday is on the way,
warnings we can’t ignore.

The living nightmare
is almost here— not if
it’s going to happen—
only a matter of when.
Saturated with sun,
stones have heft—
move by rolling to safe terrain.

Caterpillars and cockroaches
follow close behind.
They roll down to Antarctica–
sinking down below the below—
into a void beyond the idea
of wrong-doing or right-doing—
the past, present and future vanishes.

Stones speak for the first time—
butterflies fly out of their mouths
speaking a new language
everyone can understand:
Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning
to breathe free.

Come all survivors— follow
the stones, before the end
of your life begins.