.
This world, with its flashing lights, and images, and blazing with speed
gives us little time, and less to reflect, and worse does our lives impede
so much so, that even to glance at a book, or any printed matter to read
it drops from our hands, with nervous tics and birdlike jumps that bleed
and betray only too well how this very second steals even that small seed
of graciousness, of time well spent quietly and well, to soothe others need.
But at times, must we whether work, travel, or move to events accurst,
yet must we stop, in force, for there is no other choice, no, this calls first,
only breathing that never stops, and the human voice, and baking thirst
wins precedence, for stopping brings only disaster, the horrid worst
but, with that duress, there comes a surety, a certainty that knows erst
a chance to be still and reflect, think deep thoughts, and write this verse.
