Extruded from a socialist womb,

One becomes separately alive,

Sweats at the fount of mother-milk

in the endless struggle
to survive;

One invades the mortal’s world

To find what truth we can

Of fragile human goodness

And love for other than

the Self,

One fears food, shelter, and justice,

are private and political property,

Sought and bought with things

or subtle lovely lies and bartered
Liberty.

Yet with pluck and luck perhaps,

One finds transient pleasures

Among the shards of gathered,

Baubles, troubles and other
Treasures.

Suffering threats from a million gods,

painful errors, regrets, and strife

in the silence of the universe

One may question and fear life
Everlasting.

One may at last discover,

within each being, object, truth,

we only live within each Other

And Each is is just another
Self.

Each inanimate or living thing

Waits and wonders here on earth

What life or time may bring

To those who hear siren song

of the Multiverse.