Lines drawn upon the page
testify that something must be written upon them
or why else would they be there?
See how the tractor furrows the earth
knowing that seeds will be written in those lines
yet the tractor is driven by man
and man does not draw those lines
man has tools and those tools draw the lines
for the seeds to write our future
Is man the tool?
If so, for what purpose is he
and who is drawing his lines?
Are we a conception
yet to be planted
as we grow are we creating furrows
within the aether of our existence
to become
a sapling of spirit?
…and what then?
Are we to become the oaks
of time whereupon we
see knowledge
through the eyes of one
skin of tree
kiss of sunrise
…smile of rippled pond?
…and what then?
Once we have knowledge
of all, of everything and nothing
what then
what is more than spirit?
What mortal taints of ignorance
we are born with
when the answer lies within
our furrowed hearts
the answer we cannot explain
the feelings we crave
our physical desire to want
our mortal lust for pleasure
our search for the meaning of The word
that sears our emotions
our tears
our smiles
our blood
and the psyche that is heart
that is
more than spirit
deeper than mind
that is
billions of years old
and still growing…
The answer to why we furrow
to why we are
to what we are
to what we shall be
the answer is
Love to Love to be Love to be
Reblogged this on Wise Counsel and commented:
What is the reason for our existence?
What is the point of life?
Who are you?
Love should be my answer!
Profound and deep.
Beautifully deep and soul searching.
Thank you, Willow.
Martin, I love these questions you pose – those furrows of thought, waiting for the manifestation of…. what? Of whatever we plant, perhaps. Excellent poem – glad to be reading you again (and hoping to get caught up more with you soon).
Chocolate time….
And I’m glad you are here reading me and yes chocolate time