Today’s post is mostly just for fun, and as you can see if you’ve been following, I’m temporarily at least back to a rhymed format for the poem. The sentiment is not particularly new, but I hope at least that I’ve found a new set of words to express an old and venerable thought.
Territory There's a map of the coastline Hung up on the wall And it shows every inlet And cove, and it all Mimics with faith The precisest of curves And angles and places Whereat the line swerves. It's from Google, they say, And can be counted on To present population In gray and in brown. In the harbors and at sea The water is blue An improbable shade That has nothing to do With the ocean's true color, Nor is inland shown In a color more likely If it's truly put down. But the shape, now, the shape, On that we can rely, For Google has had A big hand in the pie. Were it larger, We're told, We could see our house clear Except at the winter, A time of the year When weather's obscuring The visual range, But somehow it all seems Unaccountably strange. For I understand that from outer space I Could even be seen To look up at the sky And present my petitions, Whatever they are, And if God doesn't hear them, Google will, it seems clear; And as long as I'm asking For knowledge of what Can be seen or be heard From this tiny small dot Of a little blue world Then I'm really all set To put forth my opinions, Do searches, and yet I'd like reassurance, As I spy copiously That God can see Google While Google sees me. ©Victoria Leigh Bennett, 1/31/17
That’s all! Just a (somewhat scary, I think!) thought. Shadowoperator