Imitation

Although merely mortals and indeed with a short fuse,

we always yearned for something different, when our

door suddenly shut us outside and in the hot sunshine,

the event completely unexpected on which we balanced

our lives, like humble ropewalkers, flimsily hanging

naked and with no teeth, from the stretched rope that

hovered over two ends; we were full of shame while

at the present moment bad imitations of God

excellent copies of our Ubermensch onto whom

we attached ourselves so ever tightly and

we made our mark into the moist soil, a sign

of our passing through when the Great Initiate

said: ‘All these are done well.’

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