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poem

I met my best friend today
Someone I’ll never see again
We spoke as brothers
As if the universe intended to say
You’re not the only one.
If only we could all come together
And find something worthy
Of all we know we could be
Divided and conquered
Domesticated and bound
by the marvel that was meant to set us free
We will be the last to remember
Summer nights in the forest,
the stillness of winter in the mountains,
the sun setting over the desert,
rivers running through our souls.
We will be the last to forget,
Bonfires and midnight rides into the dark,
a reckless drive to the edge,
with no intention of going under.
We were carefree and castaway,
beaten, bullied, tender and hardened
Torn apart and made whole again,
by the sum of our imperfections.
With bruised elbows and scraped knees
we sang together,
we dreamt of the future,
and caressed each moment.
We will always remember,
being lost and broken,
finding ourselves in each other..
A new Era becomes us.
Conditioned, silenced
by the quiet voices we are given,
confined to a world within.
Connection is skin deep,
conversation is strained.
Love is lost in translation.
A new language is spoken,
a sacred one forgotten.
We speak in symbols,
yet seldom find their true meaning.
A picture of a life is not sufficient.
We must choose to live it.
If the prize is freely given,
there is no reason to fight for it.
But we yearn for something
that we have all tasted.
There is a freedom hidden in the airwaves.
There is life in the spinning of electrons.
There is a space between,
a void that must be filled
with raw, unadulterated reality.
The ghost in the machine,
beckons us back to each other.
Invisible wavelengths flood our eyes and ears, carrying images of destruction, compassion, persecution and redemption.
Some share the triumph of the spirit.
Some stifle the rhythm of the heart.
Some possess the soul
and lock it away from its own truth.
Some liberate us, and return us to our essence.
Only time will tell, which is victorious.
What will we become?
Looking deeper into the crystal,
will we find what makes us human,
what once brought us together,
singing in unison, dancing in the streets?
Will we once again fight for truth with one voice,
put aside our differences, our fears,
our apprehension and suffering?
What will it take,
for us to truly be here, now,
together again?
Spinning spirals and endless waves,
Rays of light and patterns of truth,
make their way through space and time.
The algorithm of the universe
is pure and unbiased,
perfect in its imperfection.
The ghost in the machine
beckons us onward,
beckons us back to each other.
5 Comments
Tabatha Combs
Beautifully written
Intentionally felt…
Much luv.