Cell Phone Hymn
Companion of my waking hours,
what god could ever match your powers?
My camera and my calculator,
my notebook and my navigator,
my DJ and dietician,
oracle and diagnostician.
You correct my spelling errors
and warn me of each day’s new terrors.
Your thousand eyes watch from space;
you know each freckle on my face.
You know each secret hope and wish.
You knew I’d cracked my serving dish
and told me where to get another—
no problem’s too small for you to bother.
Who can hide from you, or would?
Outside your screen is nothing good,
only trees and birds and wind,
only strangers, lovers, friends,
only grass and hands to touch,
only that—nothing much.
— Roynald MacRoss
28 April 2025
(NaPoWriMo 2025 Day 28)