To be productive, to do something productive…once you have a
notion of God in your wake while you’re breathing… then you’re living. To be
productive, to make a change…what can an ant change? No, I am not saying don’t
change I am just saying what change?
What is it like to have faith and hopes in the depths of the
heart? I cannot say that I know what it feels like for I am constantly afraid
that the wrath will be my becoming.
Trials and ordeals for the temporal being yet when it’s hurting
and when he’s suffering the moment seems to prolong and seems as if it just
might go on and on.
Even as I breathe I realize I am a dependent being, when the
air is dirty, smoky or polluted I get dizzy and I hold my breath and even when I
am breathing I realize I am a dependent being. This invincible air, what if it
ends? What then when he could not inhale? Then there’s the thirst and hunger
and then there’s the thirst of the soul of being intertwined and tangled in a
material world it doesn’t belong to. The lover seeks his companion though will
his companion be happy to see him?
Utterly weak yet he dreams of things ill befitting of a mere
human being, weak yet he fantasies of great things, not in control of his own
faith yet he aspires of great things, weak yet he forget himself in sins…such a
silly being, a miniscule, an atom yet he manifest himself into a king.
Wake up! Time and time again he was told to…even then he
knew if success could be established, despite how miniscule it may be it would
be through the glimmers and the shimmering of the hopeful lover, who is at the
complete mercy of his lover.
A man, a beggar,
haggard, a withered soul time and time again tampered and bruised, weak with
longing, heavy with burden, in complete surrender, the soul wishes to be one
with his lover for only then it could truly be .
