Noir
The photo depicts
The past
A time when words flowed
Like a river into endless
Streams
Across great chasms
Mind-bending
Alleys.
Ever forward
Relentlessly pushing boundaries
Breaking norms
Exploding into infinity.
Kind of like ejaculation.
Only the waterfall
Ran dry for a time
And the people had to
Find another source
Were forced to improvise
Re-engineer
What had already been provided
By our Maker.
And where is that Maker now?
Is he a devil hidden in detail?
Or a stern parent insisting we toe the line
Perhaps the Maker resides in each of us
Within our unique purpose
Maybe, we are the world.
But the world is dying.
Discernment helps
Patience
Listening too
In the Noir days, we had filters.
Remember filters?
And one critical lesson at a time.
Cornelia DeDona 3-24-2020
