This is a meditation on contemporary, technological society and its implications for our spirituality, our sense of our natural selves and expresses concern over just what our modern, urban lifestyles are saying about the state of our humanity.

by Nakita Valerio

 

The night comes and the city streets are filled with light –

angular lights casting shadows,

cutting through the blackness,

creating a hum above the buildings:

a hum of electricity

(visible from space)

a hum of electricity

(arranged in contrived patterns)

a hum of electricity

(raging against the night).

The lights are like a morse code message

a crop circle configuration

beamed to the heavens

as if to say:

“We don’t need you anymore.”

While people traipse about,

having it all figured out,

tramping through the streets,

following gridline-avenues to mark their footprints,

the lights illuminate them from above

casting shadows on their faces:

angular lights,

cutting through the blackness

creating a gaggle of sallow cheeks and worn eyes

moving their bodies between buildings

and never touching grass.

All shades of blue and red and green and yellow

just fade,

just fade into the night,

just fade into one blended palette of gray.

Our eyes can’t see without the light

so we fill our streets with it

like the hungry filling cups with handfuls of rice,

pouring out light

engorging ourselves with light

melting our waxen wings with the light.

And even when the sun is extinguished

the followers of the light will forget their history

they will forget the sun

and the way it warmed their skin

the way it brought life from a dead ground

the way it filled the streets,

never leaving pockets of shadows for people to disappear into.

And when the sun is extinguished,

the feeble lights that fill the streets

and cast their angular shadows

will go on shining

tapping away a hubris

chiseling out our message for destiny:

“No, we don’t need you anymore.”