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Bekah Halle Feb 2024
Connectivity drives us, compels us forward,
Technology, used unwisely, is the dark king of this age; that proclaims hope in wires connected underground and
Invisible signals shoot through the air, trying to share signs that we care, but
Ultimately, it severs us from reality and each other over there: digital Babylon.
Heads down, thoughts inward,
We don’t see the lost on the street,
We don’t see the lady lying in pain, covered in shame, trying to re-cover herself and start over again,
But, effortlessly, we switch off from that kid searching our eyes that he matters,
When we keep looking at ourselves, our next selfie: selfie addicts!
If we don’t post our newest vain attempt to connect, we turn to other drugs to numb the pain,
That our brain is craving to solve;
The receptivity issue.
So we need to switch off to switch on again to our indelible source of
Connection with real life within and with others out,
Who says spirituality doesn’t matter: it’s not for this day and age,
It divides and fuels us with rage,
But it does!
It is,
And it is to come.
Connection to the forever dimension, the reason for the ascension to
Reconnect us back to the truth again.
I am going on a digital fast for the next 40 days in the lead up to Easter, so I reflected on the poems I have written and saw this one. I had forgotten about it, and in re-reading it I feel the charge of emotion as if I was there in that moment again. Wow. May new revelation arise over the next 40 days.
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
How sad? that my initial thought,
When I saw a man in church,
Lead youth out, was: how creepy!
I’m sure he is lovely, but even his looks
Made me lurch,
within myself, and yell: it’s not safe!
This distorted world robs innocence,
Smashes precious platforms and
Hijacks joy.
How do we restore this;
Elevate hope again?
All I have are questions, no answers.
How can we better love ourselves and one another?
How can we extend compassion?
It starts with ourselves!
This happened this morning and it prompted me to write this to make sense.
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
I come home a foreigner.
The sun is warm and welcoming,
But the environment has changed.
Curiosity is beconning,
But with gentle eyes.

I come home changed.
Last time I was more timid,
This time, a little stronger.
Last time I thought my weaknesses were insipid,
This time, they are part of me.

I come home curious,
As to what it might be, I ponder.
The family dynamics.
The opportunities that I may squander,
In fear of becoming my truest self.

I come home braver.
Even though on the outside I may be frailer,
Even though.
I might not be, but opportunities I can tailor,
So, it is with courage I move forward.
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
Have a goal, they taught,
So, I set out but faced roadblocks.
Keep trying, they said,
So, I didn’t give in and embraced the setbacks.
Sometimes, stalling, enduring the detour,
Brought me more life than just paychecks.
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
We have privilege and power;
How do we use it in this hour?
For money and fame,
To produce more of the same? Or
In humility seek,
Platforms for those who cannot speak?
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
Judgment, misunderstandings, self-protection,
all weapons of mass destruction:
wounding others and ourselves,
with each thought and resulting action.

Lady Macbeth knew this,
why did we not heed her justice?
Warning bells clanging,
freeing us to step onto a new precipice?

There's blood on my hands,
every time I don't trust and understand,
but think I know it all,
and make my demands.

Perfectionism has been my cleansing balm,
but, in the end, it's just caused more harm,
relearning is my matrix,
continuously transforming and becoming calm.
Bekah Halle Feb 2024
Shakespeare pondered names,
We are all given names at our birth;
Some are well-placed, others unknown and ill-fitted.
We spend our teenage years trying on new names, seeing if they fit, throwing them away when they don’t.
Movie stars and musicians shorten their names; Madonna, Oprah, Prince, Beyonce and Drey.
YouTube celebrities create their fame,
Based on their ordinary life.
We, who watch on, add to the myriad of followers,
Playing into their game, adoring their name.
But have we pondered the power of names, for our good?
When we speak, are we breathing life,
Or simply just air?
How can we grasp the life in words?
How can we live out from our true names?
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