Only connect – a line, a lead, a link

Lassoing together disparate entities

As seamless as a maths-made Moebius strip

Constructible, yet with a vital twist:

 

Where, instantly, inside and outside, meld

Surprisingly, into a single surface

And so it is with us, the so-called self,

The side the world sees: epidermis.

 

And the inner, secret self, the soul, which we

Alone know intimately. Sin-thin,

Outside, inside are as one, indivisibly

Bound, simply slim-atom slender, skin to skin.

 

So this is us: ego and id, ying and yang,

Personality passed from mother and father,

Inextricably tangled since the Big Bang,

Irreversibly knit, in it together.

 

Beauty beheld, are we mirrors of the world

Itself? Images of nature in the raw,

Hidden beneath supposed humanity, turn

In the flick of a switchblade, peace to war.

 

Victims of genetics, are we condemned

To be shackled by chains of history

To repeat the mistakes which never end

Tied one to another in misery?

 

Though we may never sever links with the past,

Indissolubly human, is it our lot

To observe ourselves, while we carelessly cast

The perspective of others into the pot?

 

Can we not construct a change for the best,

To tackle the test or learn the lessons?

Only connect – since the self will be left

Bound up in itself, devoid of connections.

 

As hubris prevents us exploring compromise,

Divided by diversity, we scatter

Shred shards of confusion, yet we are allies

In close commonality: the same matter.

 

Irretrievably coupled in our DNA,

Is it time to look outward and inward,

Appreciating each may have their say

Till, truly together, we reap real rewards?