Our Simple Gratification...

Our Simple Gratification...
We crave the quick...
a spark,
a fragment,
a line.
Depth feels distant,
too heavy to hold.
 
Poetry shrinks
to fit the scroll.
A whisper of meaning,
half-formed,
assumed profound.
 
The page waits,
but we turn to screens.
Books linger unread,
their weight
a burden we refuse.
 
Why read
when the world sings
in flashes and noise?
Why think
when quick answers
quell the ache?
 
Effort feels cruel—
to linger,
to labor,
to climb.
We skim,
pretend we know.
 
A click of page,
a simple like,
a fleeting rush.
The thrill fades,
but the need grows.
 
Beneath it all,
something in us aches.
The depth, meaning ignored.
A truth forgotten.
 
The profound demands our patience.
The lasting requires time.
Great things take time,
Good things come to those who wait.
But we,
in our haste,
choose the shallows
over being immersed in depth.
 
What is this need
This world of consumers,
to consume and discard,
to find the next quick fix  
to rush through the beauty
that waits
to unfold?
 
Perhaps one day
we’ll stop,
linger,
listen.
And remember—
the richest treasures
are never instant.