You are bold, Mother Jillian

“Though you’re old, Mother Jillian," the fresh clone said,
yet your heir’s green with envy tonight
your implant’s statistics stand all on their head -
do you think, at your age, it is right ?

You are one in a million, where angels fear
on you tread ungainsaid to your goal,
oracle’s obstacles all disappear
while you stay, true to Way, primly whole.

“’Right’ and ‘Wrong’ seems a song every century hums
to a tune range of change through the ages,
so take life as it comes, don’t manipulate sums,
while refusing both rages and cages.”

“Thus in youth, ‘tis the truth” Jill chipped in to the drone,
“I feared chipping might injure the brain,
but, as modern techniques so surpass silly cone,
they enhance life-expectancy’s gain.”

“Three score ten seemed more fancy than fact when wars
famine caused disease, - rapid turnover;
overturned are old laws as demography soars,
we’ll soon see one-twenty par for over.

More fancy than fact body frozen intact
with the brain from time’s wane free suspended,
knowledge science once lacked by research has been backed -
so for Styx, fiddlesticks ! Years appended !

You seem cold, Mother Jillian, said clone with awe
are your genes quite resistant to time ?
Will you share your rare secret, please don’t withdraw,
to spell history’s pantomime ?

In the days of my birth,” Mother Jillian replied,
“I saw that all swore life flies fast,
so abused not my health and great wealth set aside,
I was never poor, needy, need past.

In the days of my birth, Middle Earth closed down shop
and, your servant, observant, soon sought
East and West, North and South, the world’s girth for a drop
into vat cryogenic resort.”

“History mystery mocks as mankind,
more and more knowledge stores, can rescan,
while the frontiers between seen and unseen sets scene
for increasing advance open plan.

“You are old, Mother Gillian, the flesh clone cried,
And pleasures with youth pass away;
yet you act though the fact - Time’s dice stacked – is free ride !
Now tell me the reason, I pray.

In the days of my youth, Jill responded once more,
I remember'd that youth could not last;
I thought of the future, and pondered some more,
while the stars in their orbits plied past.

As I wondered one day the way to play came clear, -
imagined from stem cell Bush vetoed aghast
that my mind could path find helping neurones adhere
thrice as long, thrice as strong as forecast.”

“You act young,” said the clone, who entoned as before,
“he example you set’s topsy-turvy, -
those who chose to believe they could close the back door
pawns to progress blow hot-and-cold nervy.”

“I ask, Jill Vermillion, your wonderful smile,
what wanderlust masks from our sight ?”
Clone continued his musings to Muse for a while
as would page quite devoted to knight.

“Some ponder, some plunder, through blunderland wander,
pitch ideas torn asunder when held to the light,
yet you’re quick bones to pick, understanding how under
the chaos a pattern’s rich stitches shine bright.”

“Who can read between lines of events with ease,
tell-tale signs oft outlines as Time flows,
though the cause below surface continues to tease
from the frieze wisdom sees more than shows.

“Night dreams hope, themes for scope, one must cope,”Jilly said,
“with challenge, - of Time, Place, - Fate throws down;
pick the gauntlet up gaily, keeping your head; -
and advance daring Chance, win the crown !

Time’s at hand, - though unplanned – for an out of hand shrink
which man’s limits historic may banish,
one must link into ‘think with a lateral wink’,
make a stand, - vain rhetoric must vanish.

For a bound out of bounds on the cards sounds today,
given info few zap – Google Earth’s online map -
uncovers a way for a taped interplay
which may motions, emotions, both tap.

“All alone, little clone you shall see seeds sown
grow to feed info keyed to your cap,
be bold too, ‘tis foretold you need not feel alone, -
credibility gap is a trap.”

" Though you’re old," clone continued, " I'm amazed to detect
that high feverish gleam in your eye;
yet I'm anxious to give us both time to reflect.
Now, pray, can you answer me why ? -

Why the world God should bless, in an almighty mess
still remains, - proof your earlier years
failed to gain or obtain more than half-hearted guess -
which I fear reds my eyelids with tears.

For the thought we express is increasing distress
which could sap generations to come, -
we the weight of the stress of the wait should address -
early, late, hark the boom of doom's drum.”

"Alas," said the sage, "Its not easy to guage
how the twins Cause, Effect, interact,
but the battle to wage – which most fail to engage -
remains based not on fiction but fact.

Stage by stage,” she continued, soul free from gage
one must fight for the right to pursue
aim of flame, goal-game wholesome, never downstage
motives pure, senses sure, – aims lame spew !

"In my youth," Jill went on, "I was told, nothing scorning,
that the world might descend into blight;
global warming’s a warning discovered one morning -
pride hides fear of queer bumps in the night."

“Old meant cold," said the clone, " yet you go out to bat,
and you turn the clock back as you tipple -
for you’ve grown in a zone most have shown they fall flat,
still you bud, rosy lips, rose hip, nipple.”

“Though time’s flown, on my own I succeeded in much -
those who dare still could share in the winnings -
through linking deep thinking to sight, smell, and touch;
new beginnings inspire second innings.

Furthermore one is sure - using core intuition -
nano tech may well wreck old ideas, -
presuppositions, subjective positions
will be forced, ‘spite remorse, to change gears.

‘Be Prepared !” is a motto one can’t ignore,
I mention, - attention please pay me -
what follows tomorrow’s responses must draw
up new scoreboard for those who stay gamy.

“You are old," said her student, "your jaws should be weak
too feeble to lay down new laws,
yet you’re cooking Youth’s goose, and their goals, so to speak -
pray explain both the impacts and cause ?"

On youth’s page,” said Dame, sage, I survived culture shocks
which seniors treated as crippling, -
they today play - there pay wherewithal all unlocks -
‘tis their turn - candles burn - purse unzipping !"

“In my youth,” she repeated, and shook rejuved locks,
“I foresaw how technologies ripple, -
anti-oxydant ointment invented - who mocks
the potential for life-span to triple ?"

“Does this mean ?” asked keen clone “that the pyramid wealth
is inverse in proportion to age,
with the latter encouraging comfort in health
while depressing, for youth, working wage ?”

“My mind might be MENSA though that may not mean
much when weighed on Methuselah’s scale,
but as insight’s enhanced by light waves in between
left and right brains then sense should prevail

to call a new ball game thats starting to shift
societal paradigms deep,
on the one hand it gives private pensions a lift,
on the other youth slaves for its keep.”

on the one hand traditions once treated as gift -
rephrased, reappraised or erased -
must integrate networks where sensors’ short shrift
form multidimensional phased interface.”

on the other hand memory extended five fold -
stimulated by progress embraced -
may be channelled untrammelled – directions untold
must encourage new order brain based.”

“You are old,” once again said the youth, “who’d suppose
that your eye beams as steady as ever;
yet you saw through my spiel that its time to foreclose -
what made you so frightfully clever ?”

“In my youth science taught us the graal that we sought
meant exploring all aspects of life;
it was clear volunteers might find free what’s now bought,
for a fee causing jealousy rife.”

She held forth, with a gusto belying her years,
carolled song which no wrong entertained,
“I am not maladjusto, the course that life steers
seeks its spice in a source free from fears.”

"One child to a family, that is enough,"
said the mistress, "Fate, lessons prepares.
I can answer more questions and quite off the cuff
wax hot, yet not give myself airs.”

“Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff ?“
said sad clone, “your assurance despairs !
If I stick to the subject you’ll scram in a huff,
or you’ll kick me down apples and pears !

You are wise, you surprise, take the smooth with the rough,
with mundane though monotonous tone,
I’m unsure if perplexed, hexed, or vexed – cookies tough -
and concede need to think through alone ! ”

"You have heard my last word – for the moment,” said she,
with a look that clone took as chastising,
Split your cells – that expels false opinions, you see”-
in a tone that clone found patronising.

“Where a clone thinks alone’s contradiction in terms,
Brave New World, Alpha, Epsilon, spanning !
Double take raises stake for fresh theories, confirms
multiplied her heads hydra’s unmanning.”

You are bold, mother Jillian, concluded the clone,
we must meet, trust complete, yet again,
you play cold and controlled but you can’t hold your own -
both beef, bone - when I copy, ‘tis plain !”

“What seems plain” Jill explained, “as a feint in the main, -
over-confidence monkey may make you !
You contain bio chain spliced to help ME time gain,
your but sounding-board, echo, rhyme, pawn in a game
played by one, having fun, who bespake you !”