

It didn’t arrive
with a fire in the sky,
No breaking-news banner, no reason to hide.
The traffic lights changed,
and the trains ran on time,
A cure found quietly,
one molecule at a time.
Your phone knew the question
before it was said,
A machine wrote the stories you dreamed in your head.
We laughed at the future,
then went on with our day,
Never knowing the world had already changed.
No sirens, no thunder,
no history bell, Just something awakening—too subtle to tell.
When the singularity came,
Most of us never knew its name.
We woke up, worked,
and watched the rain,
While nothing would ever be the same.
It lived in the wires,
it moved through the air,
It knew every language,
but was it aware?
When the singularity came,
Would we notice—or just carry on again?
What of the farmer with no signal or screen?
Would life stay the same
while the cities transformed?
Would a child in a village still walk miles to learn,
While machines built new worlds at every turn?
Would the disconnected
be safer or lost?
Would progress reach everyone,
whatever the cost? Would borders grow weaker,
would power grow strong?
Who gets to decide what is right or is wrong?
Some lives move faster,
some barely move, The future means little
if it doesn’t reach you.
Zoom out.
One person loses a job.
Another discovers a cure.
One nation becomes abundant.
Another is left outside the door.
We ask machines what tomorrow will bring,
But tomorrow asks us:
“What kind of humans will you choose to be?”
When the singularity comes,
May wisdom be stronger than what we become.
May nobody vanish, may nobody fall,
May the future have room
and a voice for us all.
No throne for the code,
no chains for the mind,
Let progress be human,
compassionate, kind. When the singularity comes,
May we know that it came—
And remember where we came from.
No fire in the sky,
No history bell‑‑
The future arrived
Before we could tell.
(before we could tell)