7.31.14 and other dates of insignificance - 3. Poem Three, Otherwise

The following is an extremely subjective take on the author's poem that had me return time and again these past few days, to read and reread the words that evoked an almost unexplainable response within me:

This poem speaks to me about the deceptiveness of the human mind, and reminds me of a passage that was originally jotted down in an ancient scroll, where the author of said passage refers to the human heart (or mind) as hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out.

We need to be moderate in our thinking because nothing is really the way as we perceive it to be. A flickering flame of fire, like a snowflake – is never the same, it has no duplicate; a soft breeze – may be soft, but never exactly from the same direction or with the same force; the sound or tinkling of the act of peeing – at times at the exact same place, but always at a different angle, with a different sound; and even the earth that seems to be so solid or “compacted” is in actual fact not all that solid, because everyday the earth's crust moves up and down, approximately 30 cm (coincidentally overheard this interesting byte over the radio today.) All so-called things are uniquely different in appearance but existentially the same in their separate, individual constitution or substance.

Everything in and around us disintegrate eventually – apparently a necessity to comprehend something of the eternal return, the so-called Wheel of Life, and this action of Life and Death and Life again, is based on cause and effect (reaction/response). This apparent inexorable motion of everything that we know, and even what we do not know of, happens at times in an abnormal haphazard, kind of trial-and-error manner, i.e. at random; and relentless and mercilessly without consideration of who or what gets hurt in this process of hit-or-miss.

We are not aware when or how an anomalous “event” is going to transpire, due to its fortuitous disguise (I cannot be seen and clothed [for] I’m camouflaged...)

All of these random actions or events stands in contrast to that which is inevitable – death...

All considered, what is left at the late afternoon of the day, before the sun sets, that you have consciousness, that you know that you know, and to exert yourself while still this side of the Big Blue Curtain, Otherwise your life become futile and without meaning...

On 08/13/2014 08:01 AM, Rano said:

The following is an extremely subjective take on the author's poem that had me return time and again these past few days, to read and reread the words that evoked an almost unexplainable response within me:

 

This poem speaks to me about the deceptiveness of the human mind, and reminds me of a passage that was originally jotted down in an ancient scroll, where the author of said passage refers to the human heart (or mind) as hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out.

 

 

We need to be moderate in our thinking because nothing is really the way as we perceive it to be. A flickering flame of fire, like a snowflake – is never the same, it has no duplicate; a soft breeze – may be soft, but never exactly from the same direction or with the same force; the sound or tinkling of the act of peeing – at times at the exact same place, but always at a different angle, with a different sound; and even the earth that seems to be so solid or “compacted” is in actual fact not all that solid, because everyday the earth's crust moves up and down, approximately 30 cm (coincidentally overheard this interesting byte over the radio today.) All so-called things are uniquely different in appearance but existentially the same in their separate, individual constitution or substance.

 

 

Everything in and around us disintegrate eventually – apparently a necessity to comprehend something of the eternal return, the so-called Wheel of Life, and this action of Life and Death and Life again, is based on cause and effect (reaction/response). This apparent inexorable motion of everything that we know, and even what we do not know of, happens at times in an abnormal haphazard, kind of trial-and-error manner, i.e. at random; and relentless and mercilessly without consideration of who or what gets hurt in this process of hit-or-miss.

 

 

We are not aware when or how an anomalous “event” is going to transpire, due to its fortuitous disguise (I cannot be seen and clothed [for] I’m camouflaged...)

 

 

All of these random actions or events stands in contrast to that which is inevitable – death...

 

 

All considered, what is left at the late afternoon of the day, before the sun sets, that you have consciousness, that you know that you know, and to exert yourself while still this side of the Big Blue Curtain, Otherwise your life become futile and without meaning...