*I overlooked this prose for years because it is dark, however it is truly existential. I have often thought that one would not get out of bed lest to stoke the fire that had gone out. We only do things because we must.
Pause to consider eternal
life.
Each day, if that is the
measure, nothing need be done.
One will not die for crops
not sown.
Nor hunger filled for crops
not grown
The rain will not drench by
the house not built.
And, babes will not cry for a
mother’s milk.
Consider a dreamer with
desire to paint.
Eternal time is no constraint.
Ponder the dream for days and
days.
For the canvas shines so many
ways.
Whether I paint with color or
passion,
I have no concern for the
modern fashion.
Thus, I wait for another day,
to see what dreams may come
my way.
And thus, nothing is done
except ponder.
Now, does even pondering have
times constraint?
What if I ponder for days and
days that turn into
years and years or millennia
upon millennia?
So, what is the measure of
time and what needs must be accomplished?
How must I perform and most
paramount is it I that must do?
Now wrap yourself up in
comfort, oh ye of labor, for you have done conscience bidding. It has been
thrust upon you in a manner of teaching, though it was not your request. You
were born from oblivion as the quintessential guest.
And I dream to be free from
sowing crops and building with thatch
to prevent the rain from
coming in for there is time to paint my painting of a song sung with refrain.
Would you do anything unless
you must? Thus, death gives you necessity.
Necessity to work with in
your day and finish what must be done before you die.
Now if you are an immortal
soul you will understand the necessity of time verses timelessness.
The differential of having
and not having makes your life expedient and yet only patience will see it
through for if all things happen in zero time then nothing would be.
This dichotomy like death is
essential.
