With the locus clearly obscured by love

With the locus clearly obscured by love,
My birth a single Saturn cycle past
The situation of a democratic
Music nearly thirty years ago;

With brilliant language from around the globe
Building networks, new neural-pathways
Mirroring the movement of our thought,
Or making real a vibration of self;

Opened up, the mind--a colored mudra--
Devised a protocol, a vile malware
Designed to duly confine itself.

But then! When love occults the inner light
A cycle ends, an other then begins
Where consciousness is owned by no one.