The darkest day of the year.
In a world awash with clamorous cries,
Where the clatter of carts under fluorescent skies,
Tells a tale of a Friday, darkest of all,
Where the masses converge in the great shopping mall.
Amid aisles of gadgets, gizmos, and more,
Lies a void in each consumerist’s core.
A hole that the deals and discounts wont fill,
A longing for meaning, of something more real.
Cardboard and plastic shipped to your door,
Opening boxes, begging for more.
Cartloads from China, fill up your home,
Bending the knee to the Amazon throne.
Mountains of trinkets soon destined to rust,
In landfills they lay, covered in dust.
The King of the Junkyard, Bezos shall reign!
Building the desert, turning sacred profane.
Yet, hark! There’s a whisper, a beckoning call,
To a haven where peace and serenity fall.
Away from the shopping and chaos so loud,
A sanctuary waits, far from the crowd.
Within sacred waters, so calm and so clear,
Float away from the frenzy, let go of your fear.
Embark on a journey, not bought or sold,
In the depths of oneself, mysteries unfold.
What’s found in the float tank, no money can buy,
The essence of being, a vast open sky.
Escape from Black Friday, and venture forth,
Remember your Soul, find your True North.