Glossy pages proclaim paltry purchases
as life savers for my overrun soul.
I’m run over as they bellow,
beckoning, “buy me! buy me!”
I cannot partake of one more
iota of input–
how can quiet paper
carry so much loud weight
and end up selling me nothing?
This war of words promises joy and happiness
are but a wallet-full away. Enough greenbacks
and I’d have a temporary ticket to here-on-earth
wealth yet penniless and empty still.
Bare bodies bear needless gifts,
overbearing bling shimmering their
iridescent faux shine.
There is no gleam, no honest light
shining save that announced by the
staggering Star far, far away
heralding His arrival, harking us home.
No neon needed to find the path to peace,
but simply waiting and watching
in the daily, dull, down-to-earth
where our cravings meet the cross