Screen-stained fingertips,
blue-lit fingerprints.
Is humanness obsolete?
A like; a follow; a friend.
A city’s patronage
blunted by estranged neighbors.
When did doom-scrolling
supplant bread-breaking?
Has wine lost its potency?
Salt, its vigor?
*
A world ever shifting
toward fame in the Cloud.
Screened ostensibility
beckons another way of living.
Perhaps
while the world attempts
a feeble mark in a technicolor dream,
God calls his own into the mystery,
en masse, disappearing
into tiny pockets of the world,
to know and be known.
*
A handshake; a prayer; a tear.
I feel, or fear,
the God whose face is veiled
may beckon me to do this:
to welcome abundance –
plunging obscurity.
This poem was originally published in the Christian Courier one year ago, today.
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