Encased in indifferent ice
glacial heart beats slowly, coolly
caring less about others' needs
than preserving spirit's isolation;
or, caught in ego's snares,
thinks only of itself.
What an isolated soul it is:
seeing only its reflection
frozen in winter's frosty panes.

Can nothing crack the ice,
penetrate to spirit's depth
melt glacial walls
& let uncorrupted love enter,
laughing with joy?
Can such a heart,
(frigid & safe behind
accumulated rime)
ever take pleasure
other than isolation's illusory dance?
How then will it learn:

We all are connected; unique yet same.
Each of us carries Divinity's spark.
It matters not our heritage nor our name.
Disregarding others we stay lost in the dark,
Empty, cold & so forlorn,
'twere better we were never born
than waste our gifts in empty show,
Lock'd within self, nowhere to go: