Is it w o r t h y ?
This thing, this
Little packets of self
Sent out in tiny boats across
The electronic sea
Declarations of a creative spirit
Valued perfunctorily in likes and follows
What’s it really w o r t h ?
Why should any care?
Weighed against the things that
Feel true, feel
The unswervingly loyal heart of a dog
For the one who chose it
The ceaseless sacrifice of the mother
For an ungrateful child
The courage of those who ran up the stairs
As others fled down them
And selflessness of those who brought the wounded in
What weight do these words
These impressions from a singular perspective
If a w o r t h y soul is as light as a feather
Then mere words are a cry in the vacuum
Everything that really matters
Can be expressed in
The most epic poetry
Is there complete in the moment two lovers’ eyes lock
And do not turn away.
Words and image are my own.