The Static and The Sinew
The future does not whisper.
It is the hum of a server farm in the desert,
The vibration of a needle finding the vein of a second,
The sound of a door locking before you knew it was open.
We traded the sunrise for a backlit screen,
Dissolving our shadows into lines of code
Until the "now" became a ghost
And the "tomorrow" became a ledger.
Do not look for hope in the wind;
The wind is just air moving to fill a vacuum.
Look instead at your hands—
The only hardware that still remembers
How to touch something that isn't made of light.
The future is already here.
It’s just waiting for you to realize
That you are the ancestor
Of a world that will never sleep.
B