On gentle winds
In our celestial heavens
Rests a ship, our moon as anchor
Aye, our moon as twin

Large eyes watch from within,
Endlessly becoming

Centuries are as days
Comets as raindrops
Lives as breaths
Cycles are vibrations

They know us
We are them, in part

They wait,
For us to remember
Who we are

To feel again

To realize
That we are sick
Infected

By something higher than us
Yet forever beneath us

Pride, Greed, Perversion
Not plagues
But symptoms
All stem from the same source

Humans are but pawns
Ultimately naked,
Infinitely vulnerable,
In a greater play
An ineffable balancing act
Such has been our eternal woe

So they wait, our twin
Our blessed sister
To raise us
To soar ever higher

Free from time
Masters of space

By simple means
Of sharing key knowledge
Not yet bestowed to man

Yet, they wait
For we are sick

To share with us
Is to share with them

They cannot speak
Until we cannot transmit
What we have allowed
To grow unfettered
In the shadows
For the last Century

Until then

Earth is…

In quarantine.

-Bardos