static, just disturbance.
tuning the set to the ether.
frantic jabbing at the buttons.
no avail, can't find there.
can somebody tell me the station,
the voice that speaks of belonging.
the beep, i can hear the tone.
and then it hangs up.
anxiously i dial the numbers
and the levers deep plunge
but where is the lady who used to enquire
panacea to burning hearts.
mesh of wires,
bits down the optical drain.
nearer than near
farthest than far.
all we can do is,
peer through the glass at the distant star.
the touch of ether
the clouds ruling at peaks hem
they vanish when the
sun of reality dawns on them
where does dream end and belief begin
where does faith figure and what is sin?
doesn't living like that mean focusing on a blur
do we even know what we are living for?
what is real and what is fake,
when the debate demands "are you sleeping or are you awake?"
