When sitting across from your date, your spouse, your mate
Your friend, your business partner, your kid even say…
Put the gosh darn cell phone away.
Yet here I am with the rant and the soap-box
Giving a speech about how we talk or we don't talk
But when push comes to shove
My email inbox hovers sometimes above
The words that I hear, the words real life and clear
The face in front of me
Worthy of listening
Worthy of eyes contacting
Worthy as human beings
And yet we forget
As soon as our phone rings.
This isn’t a slam, or verbal shove
I am the worst of us, certain times I love
Escaping, noggin rotating, twittering thoughts
Avoiding the real, the feelings I feel
Dare even pain, fret, or hurt
But instead, a human voice, a word spoken maybe curt
My choice is face do I face you
Or pace away with my screen face to
Read and bleed those real emotions into.
Information age, is it forever this way or a stage?
Can we balance our eyeballs on faces and back-field sky balls
Play in the rain at the drop of a hat, snuggle kids, not call back
Immediately, see this immediacy—to check our online life
Rather than deal with real life- strife
can we pause when we want to be steady and still?
Can we still put down the phone and heal-
The wounds we have caused when we stop looking in eyes
Or the wounds done to us that creep up still- surprise
Do we run virtually to escape our own us
Do we get rustled and fester when our kid starts to fuss
Asking ‘when will you unplug and let go and play?’
When will you sit with me, run with me, stay
on this couch, and not look away
To see who just texted or emailed or rang.
It’s been food for thought, as of late, recently
To take a good long look at the cell phone and me
Is it important constant constantly?
Is it as urgent as we’ve now made it to be?
Virtually the need- take inventory
Realistically it’s real life that I need
To remember what miracles surround
a real glance, a real voice, each real unique sound
Try today, boldly put the phone down,
Perhaps shut it off just to see just to glance
At the potent place in our life, what it adds
I’m not saying it’s all bad,
we have grown and evolved
New ways to connect and resolve
this strange planet we see in all kinds of new ways
let's not focus on what’s so wrong these days
But one can take stock,
like an ol’ grandfather clock
Make sure the hands still move through the hours
that one can still run through rain showers
See that the winder is wound
The heart is still present and one’s voice is still found