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“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.

.