I'll take your cell, your PC, your GPS
I'll take your internet, your search engines, your MapQuest
I'll take your stars, your compass, your magnets-
I'll take them all and throw them to the sky
For the blue jay to catch, for the eagle to grab,
For the homing pigeon to drop over the sea
as he flies on home from halfway across the world,
which to him is as small and intimately known as his
feathered wings that dip and dive,
while we drive, twist, and speed along the curves of a mountain's highway
following a Global Positioning System that has told us to
take the "approaching left turn"
off the mountain's edge.