A blank slate;;; a horizon

through my eyes, at my fingertips, we’ve come this far.

Cast our nets in the right direction and let the fish slip through our hands,

challenged like we’ve never been.

Despite the curiosity and how close we get, and the chain of custody,

and the sheer lack of command,

well have to open it up, and drown it out.

Burn it down,

to the foundation, to the roots; in one ear and out the other,,

up until liftoff.

While we have fish on the brain,

in all aspects, always.

To the heart of this sickness,

we are the osprey,

flying straight towards the stars,

empty handed, a quarter of the time.