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Is that
What is Human life
Eyes
unhappy to focus deeply on anything,
Legs
performing their duty nonchalantly,
A
pulsating shadow of pain in torso,
Body
fighting to leave behind a harsh day’s fatigue,
Mind
restaging its arsenals to combat a spiritual wearying,
A
gallant beginning in the morning is fading dismally,
A
day in human life is ending.
Day
in and day out human life
Must
go through the rough worldly grind.
Human
spirit must percolate through the jagged sieve
Before
it can dream of glory.
Each
emotion must be expended to survive,
Each
thought committed to keep out of troubles.
An
inflamed spirit, a sublime soul, an inspired mind,
Experience
the sharp angularities of the world –
Its
crassness, its insensitivity, its unsophistication.
We
must fall in mud before we can look up stars,
A
moment of bliss is entwined with a thousand miseries,
We
must die a thousand times
Before
we are toughened to hold a faith.
The
world moves like a clockwork.
Each
person aspires for power,
Each
person pursues material goals.
Happiness
and acquisitions are considered the same.
The
ensuing insecurity is bottomless,
The
mirage of happiness is chasing an ever receding horizon.
Human
life is wasted in its daily chores,
Progress
of worldly life a blinding illusion.
To
make a house on the bridge of life
Is
the most perverse plan.
What
is spiritual in essence
Can
not be secured in a material edifice.
I
fall on the craggy edges of life
And
ache with seething pain.
I
tremble and murmur:
Is
that what is human life?
I
wonder if God had meant that we live the way we do,
Or
is it our illusion, our fallacy?
I
look through my window
At
the verdant sheen outside,
Speckled
with the majesty of trees touching the zenith,
I
see the sinuous curves of a rivulet on the horizon,
I
feel the infinite and the resplendent blue of the sky.
When
the mosaic of colored leaves
Dance
down to ground in fall,
Uncovering
the stark and inner beauty of trees,
They
point to the spirit behind,
The
master’s invisible hands.
Never
at rest,
Never
far away from human perception.
Aloft
a silent salubrious evening,
Gliding
over its serene mystery,
Rests
the spirit of eternity,
The
call of the unknown.
A
point of light in the darkness,
Masked
often by the material world.
When
you recede from the world
You
walk into the lap of nature –
The
eternal mother.
It
has beauty, principles, and truth.
You
become nature when you give yourself to it.
It
is a life where all the quests end.
12.6.03
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