All Paths Converge

Roused by the buzz of a bellowing box,
Americans hasten to seize the day.
Tickled by light cast through our unkeyed locks
that beckons approach as fleet as a fox,
we stop short our step, but why one dare say.

Declarative barks awash in this room;
familiar, composed and disquieting.
Taut fingers tremble and stern voices loom;
contouring walls in a boundless costume.
So what keeps the inmates from rioting?

Conditioned.  Partitioned.  Our fears and dreams —
The reinforced steel of authority.
Many we’ve welcomed to help caulk the seams.
And bestowed to those who’d stifle your screams?
A silent, complaisant majority.

Distracted.  Impacted.  Flag-draped we trudge,
with taxed-eye affixed on that glint of sun.
Two roads diverged in this room.  Dare I budge?
Their paths will converge; it’s futile to judge.
The knob’s turned.  The light floods.  We’re one!  We’re one.


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