Renaissance
It’s true we have created
terrible machines
that reduce us
to two-dimensional
fun house reflections
of ourselves.
And we have lived
frivolously and out
of step with our world,
so that our world
seems to push us
in hard ways.
And clearly we fail
one another, and so,
carry our shadows
and sadness and shame,
like Marley’s chains,
scratching heavily
behind us.
But I hear the whisper
we make, this ocean
of us. I hear the sound
that aches below.
And I imagine our waking.
I imagine our waking.
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