And e.g. if there's no Jesus

And e.g. if there's no Jesus,

who you gonna call? Have you ever thought

about the possibility? Have you counted

the candidates? Please, do remember how

you fell from the sky,

crash-landed on the concrete levee

along the river Dnieper.

Trees held their ground,

grass burst from the cracks in the cement.

In the darkness far below

an empty cigarette pack sank into an eddy.

You cried beneath the dripping pines,

ghost song lodged in the throat of a mermaid.

With my voice

I am calling you.

You're a screenwriter waking

covered in blood running from your nose.

You're an editor who knows someone

who knows the names of all the birds.

You're a woman full of forbidden energy

taking your dreadlocks off in the gloom.

You're a market researcher and a bookworm feeling

desperate and lonely in a crowded meeting room.

With my voice

I am calling you.

With my voice

I am calling you.

You're a software developer

micro-dosing on LSD in a search for inner peace.

You wake up each and every morning

and the world still is what it is.

You're a cameraman constantly looking

for a perfect frame to catch.

You're a young architect deprived of sleep

with a dozen projects to draw with dispatch.

With my voice

I am calling you.

With my voice

I am calling you.

You're a coder and a poet harvesting words

for your never to be printed books.

You're a tomboy interpreter who hates

being judged by her looks.

You're an artist continuously in pain

waiting for the world to end.

You're a synesthete photographer compiling

a portfolio you'll never send.

With my voice

I am calling you.

With my voice

I am calling you.

You're a translator choked with

the density of the source text,

you believe in your author yet you're

afraid of what might come up next.

You're a semantics professor preoccupied

with the meaning of null.

You're a technology researcher

and the nearest future seems so dull.

Let us sit together until the moment comes.

With my voice

I am calling you.