Clones of individuals.
Ultimately, so replaceable.
Scores of bleating sheep that roam
the pastures of the mind.

Tunnel vision, sight of mostly blind.
Wonder why the spirit cannot
take to flight, no matter night or day.
Play the games too much, the joy recedes.
Sinking into mediocrity.

Faded, worn - the living memories.
Today is here, tomorrow comes.
Yesterday has just begun to speak.
The meek must fight to find inheritance.
Beyond the boundaries of the squared-off fence.

The mystery is whispering
of change within the dried out history.
Magically, the tides are turning round.
Out and in, the gold is being ground.

Tiny particles of starlit bliss
reach out to teach in dreams of spirit's bliss.
The union of all heaven with the earth.
What price could e'er be put upon love's worth?

Unique, the birth of life in time
that simply loves itself enough
to mind the woven matters
of the heart...

? Michaelette ?