what the birds know is the way home
it begins with a door that cannot find its own name
the bird who stitches together the last sky must sing the name into existence
and the door opens into the burning of the world
through the door we find each other
and in the wholeness the birds
collective rupture into species being
the last sky world burn sings itself into our feet
soles imbued with prophecy of dirt
good lord last sky world burn there is something beyond you
the birds are taking us to find it
you are singing the door open for us
and through it streams the flood of the people
the feet of the flood of the people burn the world as they run
the last sky world burn is desperate to open the door for us
there are birds making treaties with the sky to facilitate its arrival
there are feet conspiring with the land to ensure the world burn is total
last sky will empty itself of airplanes and war jets to make room for our spirits
the last sky world burn is a sketch of a coming dream
it is our duty to believe in its inevitable birth
the last sky world burn asks a question
it is our responsibility to make the answer
Copyright © 2025 by Fargo Nissim Tbakhi. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 25, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
