Discovery by Rae Iolene

Discovery  

“When the river runs dry and the curtain is called, how will I know if I can't see the bottom?” - Sleep Token

I think the universe is hard to love. 

Sometimes.

In its gray and black and white and sometimes blue. 

Have you seen the sun? Have you seen the moon?

There is kindness in shadows. I linger there. 

Let my fingers grasp its hand and pull. 

Sometimes I wonder if we are all just waiting. 

Waiting for the Earth to close up and 

swallow us whole. 

The questioning is unnerving in its answer 

always taking and talking,

like a late night stroll. 

Have you seen the crescent? Brightening against 

broken trees and tall buildings. 

I’ll take the tombstone, yet—all smooth granite 

and mossy stone. Carve a future only to end it. 

When bones become dust do we cease to exist? 

The endless thoughts and whirls of high wind, 

let me question the universe. Let me love it. 

Let me despise it. 

And then I can’t help but wonder if starless 

skies equal the absence of empathy and the 

tension of hunger. Do you hear the thunder?

It’s a rolling drum across spring grass. 

It rolls and rolls and rolls. I wish I could 

become it. To stay in its madness with 

no thoughts but the chaos. 

Returning to it only to become it. 

I think the universe is hard to love. 

Sometimes. 

In its in its gray and black and white and sometimes blue. 

But I think the isolation is worse, don’t you?

It’s too short to hate the universe. 

Where are the rainbows? The hope? The courage?  

Where is my name, scratched off the cemetery gate? 

Unlocking the lock only to lock it. 

The universe it there, rounding the corner over and over. 

Waiting. Waiting. In search, 

of connection. 

xx. Rae Iolene

15 April 2026