In a balance of power, in a poise for wholeness
Between conflicting drives. If we lack equanimity,
We might have suffered damage to our personal dignity -
To which 'Gloire' is vulnerable when the soil is pressed.
Poor trampled dignity! A strand convulses
In the smeared medium, soured by the press
And advertisers' commandeering a rout of impulses.
Now over-stimulation foments unrest,
As rationality, subtlety and loftiness of motivation
Are disavowed by the worker, the shopper and nation.
Now high-principled Job gets his knickers in a twist!
The child may hide talents in a head not bitten off,
The adult may be redeemed by qualities unrecognised;
Others keep their dignity if they are not written off
As unmarketable goods, superficially apprized.
The justice that is done to our full capability
Brings the acquittal of ourselves with commensurate nobility,
Unlocked from the cell of ourselves, the baptized.
If people were deemed as inscrutable as they are,
Not pigeon-holed, homogenized or reduced to a gene;
If the handicapped weren't shunned, kids belittled; if the bourgeois
Weren't exploiters and workers commodities; if a machine
Could give freedom; if strangers were given welcome - humanity
Would reclaim what egoism begrudges, a dignity
As characteristic as affection is the recognizer's mien.