when old wineskins
make way for new,
who sees it coming?

if one waits on royalty
but receives rabble,
will one still receive?

and though death is
obviously an end,
isn’t it always also a beginning?

even so . . .

shred the Jedi texts and
burn the sacred tree,
for the force is
the force for everyone –
“The wind blows wherever it pleases.
You hear its sound, but you
cannot tell where it comes from
or where it is going.” –
true always,
clearer now

when the one book
in the one tongue
gets Gutenberged,
then can the word
truly be writ
on its true home:
the hearts of all,
not the papers of the few

even so . . .

if Rey be the seed of nobodies,
that need not mean
she cannot still be
the start of a new hope –
for the last shall be first,
the weak shall be strong,
the poor shall be rich

also forget not
the lamb yet lion,
the servant yet master,
the pauper yet king –
forget not that
things many
can yet be one

even so . . .

Skywalker is dead.
the call of the
force/wind/God
made in a way most final.
his shoot of a branch
seemingly snipped.
the Jedi –
once but a
dreamer of a boy
looking aloft to
binary stars –
finally, the last.

yes, but,
who supplants him?

who but he himself:
yet another boy dreamer,
looking aloft to a
new sky of his own

so can you see?

can you see it coming?

the new wineskins?
the royal rabble?
the end-yet-beginning?

can you see that
Luke is Rey is
the boy dreamer
is all the dreamers is
me
is
you?

and can you see that
this is the way of the
force/wind/God?

i hope,
yes