514 – Perspective

Bells, alarms, and whistles,
Yelling all around.

A thousand greedy voices
Demanding full attention.

A myriad tiny virtual hands
Pulling on the chain.


The sun still shines,
The sky is not on fire.

The seas have not transformed
To boiling blood.

No gates to hell or heaven have appeared.

All other ‘urgent’ things
Won’t matter in a year.

I turn the damn phone off,
And sip a cup of tea.

• • •

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