Ascension In the worlds midst, aimless and shameless, Guided by instinct, far from blameless (For all things seen seemed to scream sameness-- Myself and all the earth disappearing nameless). Thus I looked on Existence unimpressed, Peered upon people as psyches distressed-- Civilization participation: distraction; A situation gauged good reason for rebellion. And I ignored the notice of every call, Saw no appeal in any role... Till that rootless route struck consequential-- I was picked up and thrown from the city of men, Cast to a desert where I fell broken; Then on impact smacked the revelation-- I was creator of my situation. From metaphysic heaven burst the question: Was righteousness mine in continuation? My answerd have importance as Id live through Ethic, Would bide by Moral-Right irrespective of effect; So, had the course Id taken of rejection, The choice Id made of norms forsaken, Been fool on the take of mind-made fake, Or most sacred Truth with my soul at stake? And I mustered myself out the dirt, Got to my feet though sorely hurt... When desert exploded in eruption-- Out from flatland, behold, a mountain. The view was new; and this the vision: A House asunder set summit of mountain... where Fact and Feeling stood at disunion. Thus I beheld, when-- whats this? a pass, And a post before that read: Alas, The House of the Holy sets atop-- A House divided between Reason and Hope. So suddenly I has direction, Haply I happened on pursuit of worthy persuasion; But I could easily see The way up was hard, cold, extremely lonely. Then a thunderclap cracked from above the Mount, And a voice of the air asked my account-- I was pressed the test: Whats your will? And awaiting an answer all stayed still-- The elements themselves, endlessly numbered, Set to let my mind mull it unencumbered... Cosmic demand held its hand; And as I mused rock became sand-- It whirled and widened while becoming a cave; Then I stepped through thinking nothing to save. Once over and into the opening confronting I stood before a three-forked parting-- Eyeing left I saw all fall, Entire existence disappeared in black hole. Enter in, said the voice of the Mountain, For on the end, heres whats left after every decision... Though I knew that wouldnt do-- Since I wished to battle and beat The things that frustrate and make me hate to satisfactions for knowing whats truly Great. Sincerely, then, I had from solely two to choose. First and blatantly obvious Was heading straightaway out-- A shortcut passed direct through the Mount (Supremely too simple to do and not rue!); A pathway opened upon a city under the sun-- Home to many a skilled and willed person, Talented and industrious. Then a moment of euphoric wonderment-- pondering potential tapped... and my heart beat joyous... But wait... whats this? Despite an exponential product of civil genius (A world progressively more sleek and efficient-- Evolution-in-action; increasing intelligence quotient) I stood witness to something mysterious: a sinking sense rising to taint the surface, Something hiding but guiding disguised behind eyes-- There, cloaked beneath an apparently noble overcoming Of the evident pain of Necessitys sting Lies in each an ache for perceiving Limit, toil, lack or lasting reward, and deaths undoing. This made sheer the veneer so said citys seen clear-- All its excellence is its defense (evidence to convince the day here is most dear)-- The entire thing gives meaning merely as a seeming. Thus, at last, mine to do was but one thing: Get right! I stood at the most difficult decision Ever faced by every man Knowing what was meant for me... But FEELING why most pass by shortcut into the city. Who wants to answer Meaning plus Necessity? Especially when Necessity demands ones mind and time to seize upon a specialty? Also, folks suppose to try to ply the abstract Ones left from right and lost the track; For meaning doesnt feed, Doesnt answer a single need-- It wont clothe, house, gain one thing tangible; And only things material make meaning even meaningful. Plus, pleasure or pain, Success or failure, make quite plain The wrong or right of whats done. The fool, alone, They say, abandons the land of pleasure-- The land immersed in enjoying better; In gulping and eating milk and honey, In wearing and making silk and money; The land of laughter, music, and women-- The passion of having a hot companion... To leave all this to stand above it, To detach and inquire into it-- A fools errand, its said, if ever Words, as such, might move wisdoms meter. But to do other than Id do I knew Id need to feign the question hadnt shown true; And itd have to be for impertinence sake... Not a mistake I was willing to make. I had to head right to view Right, To climb Mt. Knowledge and peer from its Height-- Only then might I go again in the city of men (To tell the tale of my talks with Hope and Reason). Thus decided I did what I would, And discovered right way, indeed, was upWORD. So I climbed to a certain plateau Where bulwark impeded surpassing near impossible-- A beast of brick that rose from rock, Who had fire for eyes, volcanoes discharging What seemed molten tears down cheeks of stone, Scorched me with words weighted with heat Saying: I am Ancient Folly, I am him with whom men meet To doom most journeys at this point complete. Passage shall prove prevented Unless Im presented lesson dissecting my dialectic-- My question is this: Of what do I consist? Pausing to ponder what I might answer I scanned the scenery of my mind Reviewing the endeavors of my days, my ways, to find What was behind my being at this point Dissecting a Folly admittedly dissected On a Mount thats base to a House of the Holy Itself divided by dissection. And the thing was evident upon reflection-- The ways of The Law and my WANT Are very much and hatefully different. Of this consists most basic Folly-- Two opposites warring, though a single somebody. And yet (O bless this and yet) I also saw in that refection That my want defied was what becomes hate-- Therefore want is love, and thus, Love predates defiance. And this is precisely the key! Hate need not be; for hate come of love Is obviously no necessity. Thus with this thought on my tongue I shattered the silence which to then hung Declaring: You, Ancient Folly, Are far from necessary; And, accordingly, here before me I shall not tolerate you any longer to be! Then I felt a notion shoot through me From the brain down shaking the ground, Quaking the earth at my feet all round-- Cosmic punishment isnt meant with vengeful intent, Its essence is proof of wrong since went, Its edification-- its lesson to else as better, Its instruction toward future endeavor; And the mountain at my toes then split, A crack sped toward Ancient Folly Widening upon approach... The end of Folly was at hand; But before he fell from sight I looked in his eyes to see what I might And beheld no grief upon his face; Instead he said: To see my end is no close of case, To know not to hate is not to know how?, To figure this answer you have to do now. Yes, I agree, my task sets now to find The means to make Law, both, mine and kind; For absent this loves an altogether impossibility... And absent love Exercise of hate is the only sort of sovereignty. Thus I passed the place of Ancient Folly, And as I strove the question occurred to me: What exactly is sovereignty? Can a created creature-- which I trust me to be-- Dictate terms to his Creator? The world, its clear, subjects one under Order-- Its World as Law (Though, of course, by means of perception and will); So, is will sufficiently free to subject its Subjector? To re-create its Creator?, to order the Order To be of an order far friendlier? Such was the topic on the air as I rounded Turn of mountain when ahead of me sounded Two voices taking counter-point turns in debate. I didnt hesitate. I hastened to see; Who could it be? It was Science and Religion arguing under an arch-- Before a door on my path shut tight by a latch, And over them was written: Existence. On approach I attuned a keen focus. The law of causality, said Science, restricts validity to speculation Which may, at minimum, be subject to investigation. Mere restriction, replied Religion, to the sphere of works Is equivalent to building oneself into a box In willful ignorance of the Mystery Outside the unpleasantly cramped confines of causality-- Its to turn an obstinate eye From the manifest ineffability of Infinity and Eternity. So spoke Science: But what else is there?-- Maybe its true to consider solely matter is a snare; Yet, again, what else is there? All thats knowable is this same matter; And, moreover, this Matter-- It opens nowhere upon other, It provides no basis anywhere or at-all to suppose A place beyond cosmos where anything goes. What you say, retorted Religion, is limit, all of it limit! Lament it. This limit lament... and then repent. Your cosmos lies a system foreclosed to possibility; And the base stupidity of such miracle-less rigidity Sets signal sufficient for foreswearing acceptability-- Smart shall not be servant of stupid, Man will not be lorded By a cosmos shorn of substance... emptied, vapid. Of it be rid! Each word I heard while raptly approaching; Then both turned toward me on noticing, And so stopped speaking. Greeting! Im here locating Meaning. I was listening and appreciating Your two truths of different seeming When a thought betook me, put me dreaming-- What youre debating isnt far from the thing I too am interested in answering; Its a two-piece puzzle that I must fit, The pieces of which are apparently opposite. I seek to reconcile want with order inherent, Infinite spirit with finite limit; And I sense Im nearing the thing I seek In searching how human-will may sovereign speak, May abide in Law but not be meek. So far Ive detected that the issues dissected; And I suspect the cause each two are disaffected Is its on only itself that each things reflected. Will views Law as denying freedom, its core; Then, concluding its denied, comes to deplore-- Thus the bottom of hate is wanting more, A mockery of the want thats loves wherefore. Im sure theres a Formula for fixing this madness, And Im sure its a logic that taps into gladness. What say you, may I pass? Science spoke first saying: We two are Impasse, An intractable irreconcilability... Or so I believed before your soliloquy. Im prepared to put aside difference To stand henceforth in silence In order to let you pass; For I suspect whats been supposed impasse youll surpass. Religion replied: A leap of faith by Science?!!-- By that alone Im almost in agreeance; But by addition of my detection of your disposition Ive sealed a suspicion Your passage here might bear good fruition. I, too, therefore am willing to set aside difference And stand in silence Awaiting whether your ascension Provides direction to reconciliation. Reassured, I said: I love your trust, It fills me with the sense I must; Your accepting Im not here in jest, With your wish my mission will be blest, Offers a chance we may yet know whats best. Thus I passed the Impasse Between Religion and Science; But not as I would-- for they stood in silence. Upword, again, as almost destined, My minds ear attuned, Toward its target sharpened, I heard grave matter as my thought listened. What if the world is as seen by Science, Nothing but Chance, Circumstance, and Consequence? What if what Is is plain as Appearance (The only reason for ignorance Ones isolation amid Vastness infinence)? What place could be held by Religion, What good its news and instruction? Itd need be a moral wed posses To set cosmic This under psychical eminence. Thus my question: How subject to selfs respect (Come to love-- to reject to resent or deject--) That nothings here for me to gain, That in the end alls loss and pain? Then quick as I spoke the question The air above me began to burn-- A belt of fire wrapt the Mount Preventing passage to its Height. What?! Does no answer exist? How the heavens is this? The way demands diligence, I guess... And from the fire a voice said, Yes, Thou shalt not pass lest thou hast Known Mt. Knowledge first to last. Well, what else must I know? Where else (into the fire; back down) can I go? I here possess what I need to ask, Now to the Holy to finish the task. But the voice in the fire answered me: No!, The divisions most old and no-better knows; Its for you from here to show the way That wrongs made right-- how dawns New Day. Yes, I see-- I must enter this Mountains labyrinthine belly To decipher the depths of mans philosophy. And quick as I said it The stone mountain beside me split-- A cave door for me; and over it writ: To enter heres to flinch in spirit... For knowledge chokes, makes folks into jokes-- Lamenters of the limits of Natures short strokes, Despairers of death with tear-soaked croaks, That leaves none happy to bear beastly yokes. Im not convinced, I said; I dont think I need shrink-- I eyed the abyss and didnt blink... I stood, and stand still, happy on the brink. Then quick as the thought passed my lips What begun as a cave became a vortex-- A liquid-like light scrolled the text: What next? A riddle, I thought; And the whirl glowed bright. Show me the moral: More than knows not; But the cave came back black as night. Alright! I said, alright; The answer required Ive got. The mythology of men has been: Oppositions warred since before Word began; The worlds a changling-- Always to consequence changing (But not so much that Constance moves-- Call Constance E is mc2 or Jove); And all of it working to make it that trying Shall be every instances war against dying-- In a word, were told, our world is Tragedy, In everything exactly what we wouldnt have it be. But the more important, The moral part-- The heart that made myth to philosophy Seeks to set Tragedy under mans dignity. And in this he sees as choices in his capacity Merely three: Ignore it; treat self deceitfully; Or steel the will not to feel. This Ive heard is how to fight Fate... Might as well eat, drink, and be merry; For next is not now, and was is too late. But how I wondered was one to be merry While living only now itself is tragedy? Though the teachers could offer no answer-- Theyve known no better. All theyve said, ever, Has been Thou shall not-- Conform your conduct to the rules severally set (You can live, but betternt bet-- lifes not yours, youre only by let) Or Thou shall renunciate-- Flee this seat of hate, fly for Heavens gate (I cant conceive a more dissonant state!). Not once was a master; Its all been to falter in answer to Disaster. The fools, not seeing to be BETTER. And there recalling mans moral madness I had to ask, who wrote this foolishness? Had they no grounding, no feeling? Were all of their senses perpetually reeling? For none of these describes my standing: I can care for everything and nothing-- Can love and hate both life and death, Can laugh and weep the very same breath (When not liking laughing, and weeping, Laughing Im a creature who might weep for not keeping). There I stood considering mans philosophy-- Knowing something was missing; what could it be? When suddenly... oh wow! I see. I know now how to set beneath dignity. Then quick as those words were uttered The way was cleared for me to finish upword-- The fiery barrier flew in the swirl And vortex morphed into mountain wall. So I took the first step past that stop Knowing never before was a man higher up. I knew what I had to do... And the tip off the top of that mountain blew! What was sharp and hard-- dangerous to pass-- As quick as a quasars fast got flat as glass. But it wasnt merely easy, also clean and white... ... Then I saw the sight. The House of the Holy Hovered directly over me. A beam of light descended-- And to its entrance I was lifted. Emblazoned over the door, a question: What were thee as a child? What are thee as a man? Has knowledge hardened what was mild? Has living shackled what was wild? Is there no love now where you stand? I opened the door yet asking me this-- Of course I have less what once was pure bliss!
Posted on: Thu, 15 Jan 2015 08:49:17 +0000
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