We need to return to the solitude within…come into rhythm with ourselves.~John O’Donohue
I wipe away the prescient warning
tears–oh, it’s just grief–like a meldropping
from my nose to say it’s cold. My pockets
filled with tissues. Poisons hit like rockets
5G’s the worst, thrumming inflammation
through the metaverse human damnation
by our own devices. The prices paid
willingly as we’re enslaved, greed waylaid.
Intimidated and convinced, we’re spoiled
looking outside ourselves to the well-oiled
machinery in hopes of salvation
some rescue party in operation
freedom for some group. Think critically.
Logic is not that difficult. Achieve
clarity. Intuition knows, saves souls
arising shy and sweet through quiet’s holes.
I was charmed to learn the word meldrop this morning, which means a drop of snot, which I’m sure had common usage among my Scottish Highlander ancestors.
Featured image: Sunlight, water and woods, the perfect recipe for clearing the techno daze.