Dictation

t rolls down the window like bees on honeycomb,
The rain dancing around the glass,
It's natural drumming comforting in it's beat.

The grey beyond the swarm, distorted by the gathering,
The sudden intensity driven by the wind to a crescendo,
A song in itself.

The warmth of my old leather chair and it's familiar hug,
My tea, comforting in it's sweet and tasty slide,
And I still demand more.

Sometimes, the tiniest of exquisite divinity,
Is lost in this greed fueled, media driven insanity,
People riot to acquire what the glowing box tells them they need,
This domain of wealth pursuit, 
Never enough,
More and more,
Bigger and better than your friends,
It never ends,
You'll never be on top.

There will always be something more they say you need,
The experts planting the seed you never knew was growing,
Subliminal programming in full effect,
Driving your desires to stretch beyond natural reach,
Living beyond your means,
Ripping the fabric of your natural beauty at the seams.

Each and every day,
Filled to bursting with commands to buy,
To acquire,
Knee-jerk reactions to call up and get,
To fill your home with the pointless tat,
So much out there for free,
But we are never left to just be,
Our beauty drowning in insecurity,
Thanks be to our glossy airbrushed magazines,
The deathly thin skeletal skin and bone clothed horses,
Staring out at us in alleged bliss,
The sweatshop, third world country, penny a day created 'magnificence' shrouding their society craved backs,
The fuel to our desire,
Our pre-programmed needs on fire,
No-one is immune.

The swarm slows to a gentle patter,
and the grey gives out to a subtle white in parts,
The burning ball of life shining through. 

The array of colours decorating the sky like an arc of silk, 
It cost nothing but time and awareness,
Rain and sun,
I drink my tea and turn away.