Re-blogged from an earlier post-here is a poem that i wrote shortly after I had started up my blog, Magic Moments. It seems appropriate to the moment.
I wish we could all meet on my west porch (or anywhere real) for a cup of tea or glass of wine this evening. Virtual life just doesn’t make it!
Holly (Angel in the Dust)
This is a dangerous place to be
Thoughts and ideas swirl, overwhelm.
Too much intellectual input without order
Raw emotion writes unfinished poetry
Hungry hearts beat out their lives in space
Entangled in the web of empty fulfillment
While the orb weaver sits gorged on lost souls
Hours devoured before the blue-green screen
Fingers stumbling on the keys search for connection
When all that is needed is the touch, the real touch
Of your hand warm against mine
And a soft kiss to brush my hair.
Early morning hours drive me
To the center of the web