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Synopsis
—We saluted our seatThe protocol of yesterday
Having flowered in its bank
A general “thanks” to man,
Our bed had taken wing.—
Such are the words of pause.
Living in the arena of instant messages and sound bits, how does one connect? What is his proper destination? Is it forever conditioned be predictabilities, or stimuli we need, by what opinion calls?
It’s my consideration our banks are packed with happiness, sadness, angers, and frustration revolving around the issues of our times. But where is the center? Where is constant a main connection with our world, others, and our selves?