Lighthouse

your palm against mine ...simple math the algorithms can never solve

when the bronze gears
    march toward you
       metal teeth grinding
          against every 
     fragile green thing
press your cracked fingers
    into the cool rebellion
       of honest soil

the glowing screens
    won’t show you this:
       empires collapse in back rooms
          and fields crack open
             like broken promises

when grey shapes flit
    at the edges of your vision
       and breathless false prophets hawk
          their countdown clocks
place your palm against mine
    this simple math
       the algorithms
          can never solve
no thunder will mark
    the final page
       only humming ledgers
          falling silent
             one 
                 by 
                    one

but we forge from love
    a pattern the gears,
       gleaming with purpose,
          cannot erase:
             your heartbeat
    pulsing like a lighthouse
       through the impatient dark
          where countless small devotions
    become a brandished light
       against the whimper
          of their
             fast-approaching
                fate