That glorious portable black hole,

cracked surface warm in the palm of my hand.

Its crystalline screen a portal to distant realms,

from deep space to the depths of the human brain,

the collective of creation mine for the taking.

Generations past knew not the power we would have,

reaching across oceans and solar systems.

Our voices echo in digital chambers,

posterity and present bears witness

to our most intimate moments.

In seconds, stories are sent across continents.

Though they never see each other's faces,

individuals are brought ever closer

by the sharing of words across flickering screens,

the warmth from them soothing our distant hearts.

Once, people would wait years for merchants

to come to their towns.

But with this modern miracle, the world is our oyster,

and pearls from Paris come to the doorstep with the push of a button.

A grandmother in Cambodia and her daughter in Canada

listen as her daughter live streams from a hotel in California.

Generations bound by satellite beams and cables crossing under the sea,

share their memories through silver backlit screens.

Yet all things must come to an end.

As the charge flickers and fades,

the blue-light illuminating life

dies

and we are pulled back into reality's embrace.

Limited in time and space,

until the smartphone returns to life once again.