Twenty Twenty-One

I see them lurking in the streets,
Hiding their smile in surgical sheets,
They feel so puzzled, around their muscles,
Which back in the day would make them chuckle.

When will they show it?
When are they free?
Where is their vision?
What will they be?

I see down under, not in their face,
Progress has changed us; the aim is a maze.
Paper now rotten, typeface now button,
Faster the world, but passion’s forgotten.

When will we turn back?
When are we free?
Where is our vision?
What will we be?

I see my output, turn back to the green,
Moving just forward, run till I lean,
Back next to trunk, sheet off – see – I breathe!
Calm, roots and peace, no global disease.

When will I see it?
When am I free?
Where is my vision?
What will I be?

I see a sparrow, guiding my view,
Up to the limits, until I see you!
Taking my paper, type down what I feel:
No burden, no limits, yet purity’s chamber, reaching surreal!

Now I can see it!
Now I am free!
Look, here’s my vision!
Reinforced in thee!