|
One of the Ancients
|
Sometimes when I exist, I meet others from my tribe. I am always searching... . Often I find them not. Are they currently out of existence, or merely hidden from my view? The question torments me. Many times I wondered of them as I died. Sometimes I encounter but a single brother. Yet this is infinitely more preferable than finding none at all, even should I know my familiar for a single moment. Often the land proffers a symbol of my elusive fraternity. Oh, how treasured are these signs in forlorn times! Spiritual sustenance is a rough road when one has only vague and subtle intuitions as a guide. Many times have I turned away from my hopes, only to again see a glimmer of possibility in the darkness of some artistic or scientific examination. Sometimes I know them all. The Christian unites with some God, the Buddhist with an elusive extinguishment. Would all possible worlds exist, I too might find an enduring solace in some distant incarnation... . Often I see their reflection in the mirror of a foreigner's act. I wonder whether this be incidental or some patient display of providence. Pursuit of such fruits bringeth only dispelation of the mirage; Tantalus yet persists in these realms. Sometimes I... ah, but nothing more can be said about the matter.
|
090614
|