Is there anything that's truly mine? 
Is there someone whom I call mine...?
Is there something, that's not so divine,
Yet visible to my eyes, 
Enshrined with the heavenly dyes, 
Cradled to Earthly life, 
Not so intent, but forever, mine...?

Or am I just a tenant in the cycle called life? 
Allowed to use all, but nothing to be confined. 
Free access to the skies, 
But remembering to protect, 
The truth called life. 
Nothing that is less divine, 
All are plated with the heavenly wine, 
Of a thing of beauty and a short rhyme!

Yes, that is where lies, 
The unison of me and mine, 
The contact of the selfish soul side.
Naught a thing, that's yours and mine, 
All belong to the infinite,
And so related that we lie,
One in all and all creatures in 'we'
As the world in one's thought, drives...