Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

Reckoning

Inside,
just shy of sunrise,
all over the land
people awakened,
reached for their small screens,
hungry for the tiny words and pictures,
memes and videos designed
to amuse, entrance,
distract from stress
and angst of bad news
streaming 24/7.

The people found ways to laugh,
or groan, and see themselves
in the scowls and smiles
highlighted in the glowing rectangles
carried lovingly in their hands
on the way to coffee, couch,
another screen or two
or three.

Outside
the skies
performed their daily
variety show,
clouds merging and shifting,
watercolor hues melting into each other.
and great glories of birds
synced their choruses
in time with ascending light.

Stories floated on the early breezes,
timeless wisdoms woven into the mosaics
of bark and leaf and urgent bud,
fed by roots
deeper and broader
than any iteration
of wide screen
mounted
over any fireplace
in any dwelling.

Grass held dew
like an offering.
Silence hovered uncertainly
between chirp and trill,
wind and caw,
waiting to see
who would welcome
the peace, calm and beauty
surrounding them.

Inside,
bonded pairs would grunt in passing—
partners, parents,
children, roomies—
conversations eclipsed by texts
as if seeing and speaking
to one another
were relics
that everyone knew
just stole energy
from the flashier screens
telling them how to think and feel,
act and buy.

Outside and unattended—
solace of cool air,
magic lavender light,
sweet-smelling rains,

the nourishing feel
of earth under bare feet,
dirt beneath fingernails,
crunch of old pine needles
under kneeling knees
in the forest—

a glorious bounty
always free and waiting
beyond our screens.

–Melinda Coppola

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