29 June, 2026 Internal Cartography Series 33° 31' 58.8" N, 5° 6' 0" W
Composed while pondering tonight's full moon, biding my time before the Morocco - Netherlands World Cup game starts at 2 am here in the mid-Atlas Mountains.
A full moon sails through the sky,
Charting its path in silence.
Which cartographer will chart my map?
Who will trace the headwaters of my river —
Its deep primal pulse?
Who will climb my peaks,
And sink into the guarded depths of my chasms?
Who is patient enough to map this breathing land?
Who is willing to explore my hinterland?
By what name will you claim my terrain?
I say to you, cartographer:
Do not rush the landscape or demand immediate answers.
Do not fear the dark heavy heat of my depths.
If you pursue the source of my rushing rivers,
Do not hack through the dense overgrowth.
Let it yield under a slow patient hand.
My terrain has been trodden by ancient myths.
My realm is a beautiful weight of ancient earth
And cosmic patience.
My scarred terrain whispers stories
Like ancient petroglyphs.
Look up: the full moon circles back tonight,
Closing its quiet arc above the wild.
What if you choose not to return to your land,
And instead, inhabit mine?
Map slips from your fingers, useless now.
Ink cannot hold the heat of this earth.
What will you do now that you are standing at the edge of the wild,
With no landmarks left to guide you?
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