I wish the world was more open
Because it isn’t as open as it might seem
Sometimes there’s space to roam
But spaces get closed in between
Feeling like there’s nowhere to turn
Locked in lock-step with the machine
Oppression masquerading as freedom
Median masquerading as the mean
When isolation becomes protection
And dollars make no sense
Distraction becomes a dimension
Our primary form of defence
We close ourselves off from moments
Letting minutes take their place
The now gets cast aside for the future
And the calling gets trumped by the chase
I wish the world was more open
But wishing won’t make that come true
So I’ll start where I can – with myself
That’s the best I can do
This poem came out of a quiet Sunday morning session — handwritten, unfiltered, and surprisingly clarifying. In an upcoming edition of The Lantern, I unpack the ideas that sparked it, explore the tension in the second stanza, and share how it connects to presence, attention, and the way we navigate a world that often feels more closed than it claims to be. If you want to read that deconstruction — and receive future essays, reflections, and explorations — subscribe to The Lantern below and it’ll arrive directly in your inbox.
