Envision a world
where towns grow smaller and
Leftover tools from an anxious age are
left to rot in the weather
and the wind.
People trade wanderlust
for the good ground underfoot.
People begin to feel death's gravity
In place of excessive mental chatter,
people resort to skillful silence,
needing nothing more.
Envision a time
when people find pleasure in simple food
They find compassion in their bodies,
peace in their homes.
Even though the next town is so near
they can hear each other's dogs and songs,
they are content to grow old and die
without ever having gone to see it.