By Tony DeLorger © 2011
Life like a spring eternal,
bubbles from the depths of meaning,
the will of being the force of a paradox.
From whose will does life ensue?
And from what matter can it become creation?
God, a likely suspect,
but from what matter is he, his beginning?
Life is a circle with no end,
life, death and transformation an endless parody
of an existence without understanding.
At what point is infinity understood
as a graspable concept.
We within its procession are specs,
cells in structure with the ability to think,
to consider impossibility as a rational conclusion.
God, his being, our greatest scapegoat and assumption,
is our own delusion created over our inability
to grasp that which is unknowable.
Faith you may say needs no knowledge,
and that is the point.
That rationale has sent minds and action into turmoil,
in defence and preservation of irrationality.
What comes with thought is responsibility and consequence,
for our actions and views of existence,
and the delusions we instil into ourselves for security,
and the quest to give meaning to this opportunity called life.
Love is and remains the only true expression of our soul,
the essence of whom we are regardless of our origins.
Rather than seek to understand our beginnings
we should accept and develop what we have,
in any way we can share and understand.
The real conundrum is you and I,
lost in the fertile scope of free will and thought,
inventing deities for atonement rather than appreciate what we have.
If we could relate to one another
as many say they do with God,
perhaps this world could survive
in assuming anything beyond what we can understand.
More by this Author
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A dark humoured poem about growing up and making bad choices, becoming angry and getting into trouble.
This hub reviews the causation of human misery and describes the power of human thought and how we can create positive outcomes in life.
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