I was born without any sounds,
(Oh! So I cried within a few minutes after birth)
Yet I had my own perception of the world.
The society taught me words.
I learned to express meaningful sounds that would have been cries.
I learned to give words to my thoughts.
What about the thoughts there were no words for?
What about the ideas that were original to me?
There were no words the society could give to them.
I am no longer a child.
The society has taught me words.
It has also taught me that confusion comes with words.
We try to speak the best ways we could.
People understand our vocabulary;
But they are light-years away from understanding our thoughts.
We try to communicate with simple terms,
But become frustrated because we are still misconceived;
And we end up trying to defend our noble intentions behind those “kind” words that hurt others.
The poets/writers labour hard trying to build bridges,
That effectively link words to the abstract thoughts and abstract world.
Salutations, great scribes and orators that you are!
Can I, please, use words that are original to me?
Because all I want is to build a bridge
Between the supernatural realm and the literal world.
“Hello! Who’s home?”
“I am home.
Hold on a minute;
While I crawl out of my shell!”
(Slouching here bemoaning my current state.
How often I crash into the well?
Whilst driving on the road carved out for me,
Out of hell.)
Then without warning,
The Spirit snatches me out of my shell already
He threw me on his broad back
And we left all behind
I don’t know which I enjoy better –
The ride with Him,
Or Him on the ride;
And we sail across to the other side,
Where the unseen can be touched;
The unheard beats loudly;
Where even the Illuminated One can’t stand;
Where reality as we know it is buried.
Welcome, living immortality.
USING MOUNTAIN CLIMBING TECHNIQUES WHILE HIKING IN THE MAZE A REMOTE AND RUGGED REGION IN THE HEART OF THE… – NARA – 545777 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
A smiling baby lying in a soft cot (furniture). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Today is no day for any mad village poet
He has been subdued with a psychiatrist’s needle.
Deception comes in many flashy shapes, sizes and colours. It attracts all living creatures on earth: from the bacterium which chemotaxes to a toxin(poison) bearing a mimicking functional group(similar to its nutrient source) to the little child that would believe any lie from his father, to even that father that would fall prey to the scam-artist’s drama in business.
Introducing a grand deception of the human nature…
This is not about how the human nature(via it’s passions) lures us into directly committing an evil deed such as theft or murder.
Consider: how dependent, like an invalid, a newborn baby is. This baby passes through different seasons of life during which he/she learns learns lessons in self-confidence and building life survival skills. The phases of a normal psychological development(by Erik Eriksson include autonomy, industriality,etc. It seems then that nature wants man to be independent.
Introducing the other side…
Man is not quite the most powerful, most intelligent and supreme of all beings existing in the universe. I am not about another long argument on the origin of man. I am merely saying there are realms, beings and occurences that lie outside our fingertips.
Introducing the conflict…
The rat goes about it’s routine life, not knowing that that tasty snack lying on the high wooden table belongs to another greater being -a human in this case. Even so, we are placing almost undue emphasis on our independence and are living as though completely oblivious to the result of our actions. Funny we don’t even consider the results of our actions on the next human.
The unseen is so intricately interwoven with the seen. Now is so intricately interwoven with then. The other realm is pulsating with life behind this realm. And it is no less real; it is no less powerful. And whether we choose to ignore it or not, it still wields its power and influence.
True that man has his influence; but it only goes so far! It has it’s territories.
And one day, man snaps out of his self-absoption, and realizes he’s been hanging from a thread.
PS: I am not on a campaign for an apocalypse coming tomorrow.