I turn off the computer.
When I turn off the computer
There is a feeling of great relief,
Freedom. My head starts to clear
From the flashing, the buzzing,
Frames within frames within frames
Inside the chrome book
Connected to the web
Through its coaxial cables.
Free at last from the coaxial cables,
All the myriads of websites and chat rooms,
I walk outside and listen
As birds and bees ring in the air
Carrying me back
On feather and gossamar wings
Across the sparkling sky
Over those ancient mountains,
Witnesses to our first fires,
The first wheel.
Simple people seem to be sitting
Around that fire, reciting poems and stories
Handed down by ear.
Their faces flicker in the living firelight,
And I watch their body language
As the stories unfold
And take them on journeys
Of the heart and soul,
Their eyes sparkling,
Their hearts beating faster.
Together, they talk about the stories,
They laugh, they cry,
They hold each other in their arms.
When I think of computers,
It seems as if we have come very far
From those first wheels,
Those first printing presses.
But it also seems, as I watch those people,
Those ancient people around that fire,
That we haven't come very far at all.
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