Once I had a dream that I was a bird
May 24, 2009 § 21 Comments
|From new camera1|
Once I had a dream that I was a bird .
The world was below me and the world watched me . I was a crow , who flew over the high horizon of the city . Many saw me as a scavenger but within they all longed for what I could do , roam the skies . Yet there is this urge within which I want to fulfill , which humans have already part done – fly beyond this rushing ether. As I see the moon rise ,even as the sun goes down ( to visit my cousins across the enigmatic sky ) my heart beats with pangs of pain , the suffering caused by the urge , the need to touch the impalpable( that moon and those distant stars) , if only to know that the world is tangible.
|From new camera1|
I see across the terraces , many with their aims set , they bicker with the certainity of security . And yet as time wans and nothing but the pale moon night throws shadows about , people become afraid and train their senses to the bright lights of their race’s creation . They never seem to think about the man who thought of those lights . The light shines the brightest , but the light is the substance , the sign but not the source itself . Even as it represents the origin , it is nothing but an extension. Maybe to us crows and birds the light is a sign of a reflex glory , felt every time it strikes our senses . It shows that one day the divinity within will purge us and start the movement towards the unseen worlds .
Maybe it already has in me . Never have we seen anything but the dawn , followed by the day , succeeded by a dusk and left incomplete by a pensive night , peaceful with a joyous melancholy . Maybe there is something greater in the universe , where in the trinities of belonging, i.e. instinct , person and thought are the mere stepping stones to enter into the castes in the skies . Or maybe there is nothing , but I need to see to believe . And sight can be the most prejudiced of all senses , yet at least it garuntees that there is something .
If only we can see beyond the zenith , if only our existence was enriched by thoughts beyond the stars which invite and inspire and reinvent the sense of belonging .
The sound of life woke me . Yet the world spoke to me . The vibrations of my thoughts left me to feel that I was in level with the stars and that which is not truly palpable is the one which is beyond. There is something beyond everything . The truth is the means to an end – yet what is the truth?