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
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