“shared distances”

And so we part,
each in our not-so-merry way,
Splintered shards
of once a unified day.

In shadows long
where the old tower stood,
Babel’s echoes linger,
misunderstood.

Before the tongues
were twisted, mingled lost,
When voices shared,
the plains alight with trust,

Their dreams reached skyward,
neither maze nor glossed,
And in that unity,
they placed their trust.

Yet, after the confounding
of their speech, scattered far,
across lands, they did reach,
Each tongue, a flame,
distinct but now alone,
No longer intertwined,
each in their zone.

Still, Babel in its fragments
held a grace, a memory
of unity embraced,
Better both before
and after fall,
For in its breaking, still,
a whispered call.

To understand, to bridge
the gaps so wide,
To see beyond the walls
where dreams reside.

In every parting,
echoes find their way,
Of Babel's grace, in night
and dawning day.

And so, we walk,
not-so-merry paths,
With lessons learned
from Babel's aftermath.

A hope that in our
scattered, silent cry,
We find a way
to lift our voices high.

.