"I?"

"I?"

On walls of caves and of homes, on papyrus of trees and mosaics on stone

As craft, as words, as colours from different worlds

Of clay, of mud, of ink and of the very earth

I was thy Adam of memory and Creativity

I was your companion in your solitude

And even your silent inspiration

For the days that bruised.

Then why?

Why?

Arrest me?

To a faith of

Codes and of Output

To something, not someOne;

That can’t feel & doesn’t have a pulse

Surrendered to something that cannot breathe

To something that has no memory but data inputs

To something that can sculpt but never does Create

O’ Almighty, have you the heart to replace me?

And to lose me forever to databases

And datasets that are simply

Numerals and in KB/s;

Not scars or stories

Or whispers or

Memories.

Why?

Why You,

My Creator, have

Halted your Becoming

To something as soulless

And devoid of its own meaning?

Why give into Algorithms & replication?

Why not own your beautiful imperfections

That echoes and bleeds and cracks and heals.

For centuries have you been creating me, and I

Bear witness to your toils etched in time and dust of days

Have you ceased listening to the self you were meant to unfold to?

Why give into some mere AI when always and forever the greater is ‘I’?

***