(Homage to Heinlein)
Most of those with whom I have shared my eyes
Know they, too, are strangers in a strange land.
A sixth sense, a disquieting flutter of wings
beats within us; the ghosts of past lives
attempting to instill lessons lost,
pushing and pulling at our most sensitive,
most fragile membranes.
Like a secret handshake, a whispered phrase,
our universes touch briefly, float in and out,
no more substantial than the shapes
that swim behind closed eyelids in sunlight.
“Thou art God.”
