Sign of the Times

SIGN OF THE TIMES Silence is not always precious made in gold In fact can be base alloy: dull and cold Gleam gone dim, for the lack of active burnish Now withheld - the living spoken words that furnish On the nonce, response that endows communication For that, in essence, is our spiritual libation The substance of our lives as social beings How sad, we eschew this act of spirit freeing Each one is as in an insulated box Transformed with a machinery that mocks In imitations mechanist that don’t embrace Most live exchange that could be face to face Ease of access comes with loss for which I’m vexed Sending isolation messages by text 23 April 2018