What Will the World Look Like?

My current expression

Sitting in my living room darkened to keep the heat at bay, I can’t help but think about how climate change is affecting our world. And as that goes on, here we are dealing with the threats to democracy on our own soil while thousands die of Covid in South America and Africa. Political turmoil, poverty, and corruption are wrecking Haiti and South Africa imprisoned one of their foremost leaders against apartheid because of personal greed. The fighting because of religion and land and ethnicity in the Middle East is driving thousands to seek shelter in countries that don’t want them. In many African countries there is no medical help, no government help, only disease, warlords, kidnapping, and murder.

The real world now seems to be tipping in favour of dystopia. How will we writers document it? And how will we write about the world that this one will become?

We are 21 years into this century. How much worse will it get before it starts to get better? Because I KNOW it will get better. Nothing lasts forever. Not good. Not bad. But how long will it take, I wonder. How long? And what will the world look like then?

Thoughts on a Future Grief

image of a rock in the sea
Small rock off the Horn of Ramsness, Fetlar by Mike Pennington



Is it strange to enumerate what we have
By knowing what we are missing?

Do the contents of emptiness somehow form a container for what exists?Where in the void can it be found, that list?

Is it in a rock rising suddenly from under a wave?
Does it live in the step missed while traveling downwards?
The drop of water that escapes the glass
Slides downward to fall
Disappearing on summer concrete?

Perhaps it is in the flail of limbs in that moment
You find yourself in the nothing while sleeping.

Is it strange to enumerate what we are missing
By what we have?

When we count our blessings
Is a shadow list formed as we write
Mirroring the lines in lemon juice
Seen only by the heat of our tears?