Permanence Of Illusion

PERMANENCE OF ILLUSION

We think the earth

Solid under feet

Ground means stable

Native

Rooted

Real

We draw our maps as if the land's complete

Nothing here has always been

All ground is borrowed

All soil is foreign

The body holds the memory of stars

Iron blood forged across a void from dust

Earth misplaced with trust

Water is the strangest immigrant

Made of ancient stones

There is no stillness

All strangers molecularly

Kin