Shivering and shaking in the ice
of wintry atmospheres, she came
to somehow see much more than
most. Tracing every pattern in
the frost that made the window
panes seem so alive within the
clear and sun-struck sky. Yet
oh, she longed for just another
moment of those starry heights
divine - the ones that came to
glow so bright within the indigo.

New worlds, growing into galaxies;
her hope and too, a blessing of
reprieve from all the loneliness
that she had come to bear, upon
this planet they called earth.
They classified her as a human
being, yet nothing that they taught
could ever satisfy that deeper feel
of meaning within her. And she
had come to learn too much of
their beliefs by now.

For here, within the mystery of
utter being, the truth was still
insistently outstanding - to any
eye that dared to open and receive
the wisdom born of life's eternity.
She loved to blend, here in the
night, with stars. They beckoned
her, as if to say "Come home - we
need you still and yet again..."
And no matter how she tried, she
could not shake that feeling that
had plagued her all her life in
mortal form - that she'd never
really, really just belonged in
any human group or family.

Yet there, between each particle
of flesh and all the stars that shone
within the nighttime sky, the in
between still beckoned her to
come to understand - the unity
and differentiation of this beauty
they named life in time and space.
Confusion glistened still within the
dream. For life was so much more
than any solitary form could ever
hope to come to bring to be.

She questioned then, the very
definition of reality - and found
it sorely lacking in the realms of
veritudinal endurance. For truly,
had the powers of all mind been
misconstrued and altered by
the few who chose the power
to control the many others that
empowered all this world to
work so well. Yet, feelings such as
these, had once inspired revolutions!

But why was it that these modern
men no longer stood up for themselves?
Had archetypal heroes really fled
this gross and needy atmosphere of
modern life in time? For heroes lay
beneath and yet beyond the horde of
warlike atrophy and gross destruction -
yet too, within the deep that every feel
of soul must bring.

And so another question came,
in place of any answering, as
shivering and shaking in the ice
of wintry atmospheres, she came
to somehow see much more than
most. Tracing every pattern in
the frosty attitudes they called the
modern of communication - that
never came to make the window
panes seem so alive within a clear
and sun-struck sky.

The sun was surely rising yet again
within the sky. And one more time,
she longed for just another moment
of those starry heights divine -
the ones that came to glow
so bright within the indigo
and her...

? Michaelette ?