Wind Won’t Wait

The wind has read the pages.
It carries dust from 1824.
Fourier traced the trapped heat.
A silent fire we could not see.

Arrhenius drew the warming curve.
Black warned behind Exxon glass.
Hansen stood before the lights.
They knew the air would thicken.

We measured what we feared.
And archived what we knew.
We filed away the future
in drawers labeled Later.

The years passed like meetings.
The clocks ticked beneath the oil.
The Keeling curve climbed quietly.
The Arctic whispered in retreat.

They said: it’s not certain.
They said: it's still in debate.
But the models held.
And the wind didn’t wait.

We gave the fire a name,
then refused to speak it.
We sold the truth in footnotes.
We spent the hours on profit.

The science spoke in numbers.
The sea responded in degrees.
The voices faded from the floor.
The wind passed through the silence.

Broecker warned with ancient ice.
Manabe mapped the future heat.
Rahmstorf followed the falling stream.
Latif translated the tide.
And Al Gore rang bells in daylight.

We had the charts.
We had the proof.
The window stayed ajar.
But the wind—
the wind won’t wait.

Not for clarity.
Not for faith.
Not for headlines or apologies.

It moves.
It moves.
And we follow.