Machinery

Steel and gears and glass,
worn and precise,
each piece fitted and connected and engineered
to fit with the next,
to move this and that
here and there in a slow ballet,
a dangerous thing
without the heart of a man
at the helm.

About this poem

This is a rarity – a poem tied to my work. I spent a good bit of time yesterday talking about automation with a client, explaining how, without a focus on people, all the best machinery, systems and marketing was useless.

True in marketing. True in technology. True in government, churches and anything else that stresses systems over souls.

Tom

PS – the picture was taken in Boston Harbor yesterday. Here’s the bigger picture.