Everyone moves too fast.
Freeways of humanity move like ants
Scrambling for sugar
Or just something to make them feel
A pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel
Or a pinprick of pain,
Arranged against the lonely desert backdrop

On these freeways
Politeness is a sign of submission
Showing our stomach to the apex predators
Wishing they don't move too quickly
To take us from our journey
But we all move too quickly

Like an angry beehive,
Always buzzing with excitement
Or is it fear?
In our mechanized strive for productivity
We lost the slow-moving essence
Of why creation exists

Downshift

And move slowly off the freeway
Away from hill and hive
To park benches surrounded in flowers
Move slowly as your hand touches hand
Your lips touch their lips
Downshift
And take a moment for yourself