Wandering in a desolation of dust

We wandered in the desolation

of the office, walls removed,

wires dangling without attached lights,

bathrooms emptied of all utility

we stumbled through clouds of white,

seeking the holy grail

the treasure at rainbow’s end:

the blueprint,

not what is

but what will be

what will be our place

This blueprint of promise,

of hope, of desire for something better,

even if something worse is suspected,

or feared, or anticipated,

this blueprint is the point of our wandering

in this desolation of dust,

dust wiped away

if only for a moment.

And we see it. It’s there,

hanging on a wall.

We cluster around the altar

of information, the intelligent design

of forcing the greatest number of people

into the smallest amount of space.

In silence, the blueprint speaks,

communicates its magic of certainty,

displaying its obvious wisdom.

And we know

this too shall pass.

Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.