Skyscrapers know nothing of the human soul.
Cathedral spires soar and breathless domes evoke
A celestial reality seen only through reflections of
Gilded frescoes; meanwhile, corporate towers groan
Skywards like a multicellular organism whose
Organelles know nothing of a heart.
Like Babel aspiring to nothing.
Even stone can make me weep, I know, if
It is made with the faith that my soul could
Contend. These glassy towers, on the other
Hand, scrape away the human tendency
Towards devotion until there’s
Nothing to do but surrender, again,
To nothing new, eternally
Every old Monday at dawn.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s