Goodness me, what a world we’re in
where everything spins round like a top
An earth, once so huge is now smaller than a pin
where everything connects in an instant
And we’re closer, closer to the suffering
We see the fires, we hear the bombs
With the only retreat a fantasy of drama
on a gadget, a phone, a laptop
we escape, but we don’t escape
because every time we’re in the thrall
of that instant connection to what we seek
Out of the corner of our eye we see
our ever decreasing world and all
that we thought we could escape

So look at the small blade of grass
and wonder at a world that is so big
through the lens of that moment
of looking