In this world with ragged charm
Too much rushing and fake news
Where no one listens to our views.
With minds in turmoil, wired to 'phone
Our brains cry out to be alone
To process all that goes before
It's not a race – there is no score ...
One image cancels out the next
Interruptions, email text
Our souls float upwards into space
Nothing tethers them in place.
No time to sit and meditate
As life piles crises on our plate
Our souls are starved – they need a rest
Time to ponder and digest ...
(c) Poet in the woods 2018
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