Leaving the hive

Cameras and transistors

Analogue the more honest

translation of your abstracts

Not digitized perversions

Digits repurposed to other symbols

create nothing of their own

There came children

fruits from the temples of steel and glass

Seeking canyons with clear waters

To cleanse in pastoral baths

Some tactile edification

for the skeptical soul

Mocked by those who turn back

to the comfort of the hive

What has come will depart us

leaving only that which has ever been