What does it mean to be human?
To step away from the safety of the room,
The channels of art, of intellect,
Toward a unity with the next link in the chain,
An exchange, a fulfillment!
How? How does this increased distance help us?
How can a tornado of zeroes and ones
Replace an invitation to love-making?
Replace a quiet laugh, a gentle whisper,
A genuine apology or a insurrectous cry?
Why?
Should I feel sheltered by the security of this room?
Or trapped?
Fooled into complacency?
Skin against skin!
Paint on a wall!
Words surround me in the air like incessant music!
I shall never again deny what I consider to be human!
The quietest revolution is waged in every act of noncompliance,
in every unknown effort of spontaneous fulfillment.
Every cry of pleasure, brush stroke, smile and song- a victory.
No comments:
Post a Comment