Digital connection
and all the “friend” inspection
sidesteps some detection
of our foibles and humanity
Yet, that imperfection
when under dissection
mirrors without trepidation
that which we may not see
=======
The tribes are growing
through electronic knowing
A screen full of faces glowing
strangers, now close, discovering
“Don’t get snagged for long,” she said
“on sharp little thoughts
Aggrieved or spent
In consternation’s path
For every pulled thread
Provides a God line
A reminder of our humanity
And still the weaving
Warp and weft
Continues to describe
The pattern of our lives.”
Sometimes I notice
the curl of your neck
or some other tender spot
And I’m reminded
In just that moment
of human vulnerabilities
And the warming of the heart
It’s then the butterflies arise again
And I am prompted to say something
The woman with the wild hair
and a moustache
Helped me when no one else
was even looking
Took me under her wing
in the good mom sort of way
With pure humanity
and a spot of compassion
Wove me past corporate
into the heart of the matter
Wild hair flying in undeclared breezes
and smile that never left
