THE MIRROR

Is this world as it appears?
Unsure, I asked my favorite mirror
Mirror, mirror, my old friend--tell me no, it’s not the end
Of music, dreams, and skies so blue
Of mother’s touch…and father’s too
The mirror stood silent as I cried
It showed my fear, I saw my lies
The eyes…..those eyes. Do I know those eyes?
That face I sort of recognize
Please tell me, mirror-who is he
Is he simply fantasy?
Does he have a heart, a soul?
Are his dreams impossible?
This strange man I now see
Is he you or is he me?
The mirror reflects on what I say
But not a word from it today
They say we’re only bits of sand
Nothing much to understand
Gazing at my favorite mirror
Things are not as they appear

THE REPTILIAN MALE

Why are men such poor communicators?....
because the fear of being annialated by other men?

Men perpetuate their ignorance in this fashion.

_________________________

We began as waunderers. We are waunderers still

We have lingered long enough on this shore of the cosmic ocean

It is time at last to set sail for the stars