Yearning

We live in a world riddled by instant gratification.

Doom scrolling reels, next day delivery!

Swipe left, swipe right, pause for 5 seconds, repeat.

Value robbed by availability.

What’s good for us is no longer what’s most valuable,

but the most abundant is.

Dopamine hooked brains enslaved us,

creeped their way into our bed.

And with that, lost along the way, is the art of yearning.

And that’s what this all really is about: Yearning.

Where one look feels as if to be punched in the gut

and kissed goodnight all at the once.

To feel sunshine warm your hand, and wonder

if that is what their touch is made of.

Now that we are constantly a swipe away from the next,

do we remember when patience was a virtue?

practiced as delicately as a caterpillar spins its chrysalis.

Finally the metamorphosis.

Do we still share the stare? a second too long, a minute too short.

The same way a moon gives no warning

before it sets into the horizon.

Glances whispering,

whatever this world may be,

you are made for me.