Connection
Friendly more often than not
A simplicity I never knew
Connected
No device
No technology
Just two beings
Alive
For a moment
In the same place
At the same time
Unafraid to touch
If only lightly
A gift I never knew
Or had forgotten
In the shallow pool
Of a woundless life
Or so I thought
Until the day came
When the phone would not ring
Stephen Pursell, 10/22/98
And a response, usually spoken
Even to a stranger
At the gift of hello
And melt in gratitude
To soar in joy
I can release my heart
That when I can remember
And through my night
God gave me a secret of inner wealth
But I survived
Of supposed total independence
A romance with the lie
Of near prefect isolation
Whose magic had enabled a life
And always a phone near
Many such days
Whose result might be the rubber room
A pitiful cry for help
So as to render them like me
Might drink so much of their life
That the great void within me
I might bleed them dry
Fearful that in that instant
Just to feel the contact
To clutch at someone
To attach my body to another
If I gave the impulse breath
Afraid of what they would think
Terrified of my own desperation
My soul a chilled, bottomless goblet
I have stood in a public place
Was it an illusion of connectedness?
This magic has allowed it so
Many removed from my proximity
In my heart I have treasured
Little boxes of magic
The can speak to a friend
Anytime, most anywhere
They carry phones now