It's always a struggle to get to the core
of what's eating at the heart of the manticore
Who are we?
Why are we here and what does it mean?
another day, another dream.
That's merely the difference
between the mice and the manticores
those who are, or
at least from afar appear as worker bees,
who don't think to know,
don't look and just don't care to see.
Like the martians chronicled,
their secret of life is just to be.
Then there are,
the ones who differ
meaning those who prefer
to defer to dreams,
the manticore who would be queen
part man, part lion,
alert and aware
they must beware of the three blind mice
looking for the cat.
they are increasing everywhere.
In the future, as in the past,
like the spirit of the pioneers,
have such creatures all but disappeared?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem