Emulating

What are we like?

Every step:
Mere mimicry.
Bowed in homage,
We lay a borrowed tribute.

Second-hand lives,
Vicarious breaths,
Even our heartbeats thunder
One after the other
In repetitive imitation.

Who is like us?
No-one.
Everyone is dead.

We created God in our image
And He despised us for it.
We became powerful
Beyond compare.
Now, mirrors everywhere
Blind us with our own reflection.

We were our own fathers
Our own mothers
Even our own children.

Something so perfect
Rises in the imagination
And draws us into change.

But change erodes the dream.
Being somehow inadequate.

In becoming we forget the truth.

Made up of likenesses
We lose sight of who we were.

We have nothing like the courage
To let ourselves be.

 

the process of becoming

 

Initialising

© Brian Hiill 2010