Sunday, December 14, 2014

Letters from Space

Ours is a troubled world filled with torment and hope, often controlled by our fears
and desires and greed.  But in all this chaos and loss there remains the idea that we 
can be more than just the limits that we call the laws of science that once again we 
can step forth from this rock, the planetary vessel and stretch forth our arms and minds
out across the abyssal void between what we know and what we think we know to that
which is beyond our comprehension, a place where our fears and our need for limits 
end and the freedom comes like freefall as we are set adrift into the nothingness that 
is in fact everything in this place we call the universe.

Ours is a problematic race still huddling in our collective caves around our controllable
fires, telling our stories to contain what we want to know and understand, that we can 
call god and define as reality without letting go of all our doubts that there is not anything
tangible or classifiable about the greater being that we have limited to mortal bounds
and even those of us who deny that he or she or it exists still hide in our collectively 
scattered unbeliefs that God is dead or never lived even as parts of us don't understand
life or living in the first place yet we will force others to believe in unbelief as if atheism
is any less a religion as the most archaic of mythologies and as we offer up our proofs
to the invisible authorities that watch over us, we choose to forget that it is only our
anxiety at being locked into a living shell that defines what we think we really are and
can never appreciate that what we call life may just be the first step into a whole other 
realm of being.

Ours is tragically humorous fate, as we struggle with issues that are so immediate and
short term that even their unsolvability is solvable if we can look beyond the scope of our
100 years as humans upon the rocks of our world never comprehending that we are more 
than just the stardust from which we are made and less than the potential that being
stardust pretends us to become. Death is less an ending then the next step in evolution
and even as I write this I fervently hope that I will continue to believe that I will become
more than I am after I pass through this veil of evolution, this transfiguration of spirit into
that of another form of being as i leave behind all that I have known and think I have 
known to find the greater truths that remains beyond the grasp of what I am in my desire 
to reach back across the stars to my bones at home on this our tiny world of earth.


No comments:

Post a Comment