The photo depicts 

The past

A time when words flowed

Like a river into endless streams

Across great chasms

Mind-bending alleys.

Ever forward

Relentlessly pushing boundaries

Breaking norms

Exploding into infinity.

Kind of like ejaculation.

Only the waterfall

Ran dry for a time

And the people had to

Find another source

Were forced to improvise


What had already been provided

By our Maker.

And where is that Maker now?

Is he a devil hidden in detail?

Or a stern parent insisting we toe the line

Perhaps the Maker resides in each of us

Within our unique purpose

Maybe, we are the world.
But the world is dying.

Discernment helps


Listening too

In the Noir days, we had filters.
Remember filters?  

And one critical lesson at a time.

Cornelia DeDona 3-24-2020

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