there was a time of beauty,
of love and life and art
no pixels- only pixies
who learned it all by heart
books were written, read and kept,
on paper, skin and clay
gods listened, breathed and felt.
we heard them every day
clothes made by hands of maidens
lived a life or two,
pictures painted, wood was turned,
seed was sown and bread was earned
stories passed from father to son
lived forever that way.
not forgotten on a hard drive,
locked from the light of day
old folk listened to the wind
young folk talked to trees.
plants and herbs gave cure from ill,
and everything to please.
forests bore their fruit,
rivers burst with life
and when man his betrothed loved,
to death, she’d be his wife