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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 15949
Category:
pagan_spirituality
Posted: September 7th. 2005 5:28:45 PM
Views: 653 |
Dream thoughts
by Wog
Age Group: Adult
He was already ancient beyond counting and as dried as the desert breath when he came near the roadside fountain. He had stood before the halls of the great kings and watched them crumble back to earth as though they were nothing more than whispers of paper and sticks. Such weariness was upon him that he could not remember when last he rested. He lay down beside the road.
It is the little fears that bring doom and failure to man's dreams.
It is the dream so vast that one soul alone cannot dream it that give shape and substance to the world. All other fears, all other dreams are but shades of color upon a palette. It is the strength of a willing heart that holds the brush and the eye of unreason that sees the model. It is the calling of one spirit to another that directs the strokes and forms that which has never been.
To hope beyond reason is sometimes foolish and other times wisdom. The difficulty has always been knowing when was which.
There was a madman who said, "There is no tear so full of sorrow as a tear unshed" Is it less true for being spoken by a madman? Do madmen ramble or is it the arresting ear of the listener that scrambles and confuses the glory of the sounds? Strange tales are arrested by the ear of a madman. How shall it be that the lion will lie down with the lamb but still rips the dragon to silken ribbons of crimson flesh? Do men fear the strength of women or the weakness of their own sprits? What of women? Do they pity and despise men's weakness or the resulting confusion more?
A boy sat upon a distant seashore and listened to the singing of the gulls. He heard the song of freedom in their voices and walked beneath the waves to silence the roaring of the music. Did he silence the song or only his own hearing of it?
A women child heard a tale of two lovers who were so blinded by their love that they could see no other life upon this earth and with blade and vial in hand they bled into each others wounds. The women child marveled at such stupidity. She died still unbelieving.
In times that are forgotten and therefore must be unreal, a king was heard to sing a fool's song upon his highest tower. It spoke of no great deeds. It but gave voice toa feeling of joy and peace that he wished all his kingdom to share. His rule was just and wise, yet when the people heard him singing nonsense on a sweet summer morning they feared he had lost his sanity and they cast him from the tower height. Were his people foolish for their fear or was he the deserving fool for not understanding that his people would be frightened?
The dream turned. A cunning snake whispered to the eagle, "Come down to earth and look within my eyes. There you will see all the wonders of the world." The eagle came to earth with a flash of claw and beak and fed the snake to her young. She smiled an eagle's smile as in thier growth she witnessed all the wonders of the world. Was the snake wise or wrong?
Once a man held a great jewel and he treasured it in a secret place hidden away from all. He lived alone for fear that others would see his great treasure and desire it for themselves. He grew old in his aloneness with only the comfort of his treasure until at last he died clutching the jewel in his hand. In the fullness of time his bones were found and the finders said, "What is that he was holding so tightly?" And another answered, "It is only a stone. Let us leave this place that locks out all treasures."
The dream voice asked, "Does rain seek the earth willingly or is it cast out of the heavens as a leper?" There are those that teach man was cast from paradise. Do we , like the rain , go joyously to our exile so that we can feed that which will come after? If you know to ask the question you have wisdom enough to find the answer. Why spend one's life in questioning? There are some who say that man is a plague upon the earth. Let them look to the world and know that even a disease has it's place.
Along a road that had no begining and no end a traveler with tattered shoes awoke beide a fountain. he asked the stars, "Is it love that we need or the need for love that is needed?" In his youth he had sought only to receive love. In the fullness of his growth he sought only to give love. In his weary agedness he sought only to remember love.
He drank deeply and stepped onve more along the road.
Author's Location: East Lansing, Michigan
Author's Profile: To learn more about Wog - Click HERE
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