Microchip
he built
the board
from a fragment
layer upon layer upon layer
like a bricklayer
‘til it rose
like a tower
casting a big shadow
on his life
he kept his head down
micro meticulous
he never stopped
long enough
to enjoy the view
from the top of the tower
he only saw
the Work
he would not
he could not
rest
whether a mountain trail
or an ocean view
at night in his recliner
or on his side of the bed
his mind
was still micro
like a winding clock
that would not stop turning
he took every call
checked every email
responded to every text
it was automatic
and timely
he liked being the man
who could fix all the problems
in a tech world
a troubleshooter
who could walk into any building
and lay out a plan
that would light up all the circuits
and have the place humming
in no time
he could remember every password
every code
every module
he spoke a language
encoded
in numbers
flying over the keys
call after call after call
he grew weary
over time
with worry
simple solutions
became more and more complex
within the distance
between his two ears
no matter how successful
he became
it was never
enough
he woke up one day
and decided to put his tower
on the auction block
he’d had enough
and sold it to the highest bidder
but things didn’t go
quite to plan
his tower was supposed
to stand
without him
there
he had set it up
to do just that
but it crumbled
under new ownership
right in front of his face
and there was nothing
he could do about it
but watch it
F
A
L
L
into a cloud of dust
it killed him
all the work
all the sacrifice
all the years of building
something
from nothing
g o n e
the micro in his mind
blinked
on and off
wracked with guilt
he won’t give himself a break
his view different now
he can see things
he couldn’t see then
like divorce does
it gives you perspective
he feels lost
in regret
and memory
there’s nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
each being has to find
their own way
back to themselves
it’s a different type of work
required
a different lens
a different approach
a different way
of being
some people refuse
to do the work
within
and nothing changes
for them
and they stay
as they are
‘til the day
they die
but some people
find a way
within
and continue
to grow
like a garden
well-tended
no matter the season
or the soil
“when you leave something behind …
you gain something, too …” – from the movie: Past Lives
TL
(written June 13, 2024, in my jeep at the park)