This breathless world, upon a silver screen, Is lost within the ever-constant glow, Where quiet thought is banished and unseen, And simple truths forget their way to grow. We seek a purpose in a boundless stream, And build our meaning on a shifting sand, Then find we wander in an empty dream, While holding tightly to a fragile hand. What solace waits beyond this hurried fray? What turning tide can wash away the noise? The simple things we cast so far away, Can fill the hollows with their gentle joys. So let us lift our gaze to find the sky, Before the day is lost to passing by.
