an unrhythmic musing: a venerable door lost in the ICloud while listening to Bach’s Violin Concertos

Source. Pexels. Pixabay.

by LJ Frank

a venerable door made of wood with sturdy metal hinges, a resilient work of art with hidden memories of those that touched it and entered the sanctuary inside…and yet In this modern age of high technologies and the ICloud, it has become a redux with a loss of its symbolic past – the symbolic architecture of a door.

some doors are visible and formed for a particular time, function, and place and decorative as to entice and encourage a different view, or to rewire the flexible tissue of the brain, detours are designed by algorithms the goal of which retains the tinge of avarice as a color.

the digital door has arrived at the venerable stage, an entrance to the fabrications of a mind other than my own, change is inevitable for the entering and the exit of life’s sanctuaries especially in the social media mind, for the physicality of the door has vanished under the guise of an ICloud, and disinformation is rapidly woven with textured truth to embolden the spirit.

perhaps all well-being is relative to our evolving stations in a life under the folding tent of democracy, but I must ask why is not the door to health and education free and unlocked, if one believes in equal treatment…where is the door that favors life once a person is birthed?

the overlords of our existence are forgiven their debts through legislated rulings and afforded the recognition of too big to fail – an oligarchic arrangement, while the open door to interest rates allows pawns to be played off each other, as indebtedness is about social control.

predatory is prehistoric, not so of democracy, as the lowly open the door of necessity for the population is bred to serve even for those who seek – to place a silver spoon in their mouth, and others are guided by a subliminal purpose filled with desire, curiosity, and nothing to lose.

is any man or woman better than another surrounded by ritual and ceremony in colorful uniforms, titles along with the communion cup of televised diplomacy, too many lives in want of harmony with bodies and minds that are incomplete and unequal from the day of conception.

there are doors that appear as openings leading to new directions but lead to circles to keep one occupied while the overlords bathe in their pretensions, where uncertainty is a door to being repurposed and infused with the fragrance of an obsession.

an oasis appears in the distance, like a misty reflection in a mirror, but will I recognize the voice, the door is now designed by an artificial intelligence while an architect nods in aloneness realizing the authentic, door to the sanctuary is now a baroque pleasure like a violin concerto by J S Bach.