Wuthering Heights II
by Azly Rahman
And
his glorious eyes, like a thousand arrows from Indera's bow
pierced
into mine from a pasture unseen yet aglow
into my soul a thousand
blows
become seeds made of fireflies' souls glow
And
sought thee not in heaven, nor earth, nor wind, nor fire
for he
resides in the deepest dungeons of human Desire
of him many a
life-time long a seeker longs like the ages of Man
-- one Right a path through many wrongs
Never raise a
coward cry in thou's search
for that with the thousand eyes
for
he sees thine soul in momentous joys and silent cries
Cease not
to think
Cease not to be
These are the hands of the minds
That plow the fields of eternity
Seek thee that spirit,
seer
Through the sands of time
If thine eyes may catch yet a
thousand blows
From Indera's arrow
Though in the pasture of
thine soul a thousand rivers of forgetfulness flow
And never one
had thou seen his glorious eyes
Neither in heaven, hell, earth,
and water
Never once in this lifetime
But at least one has
not ceased to think ... nor to be
Cease to think nor be
For
therein lies the signs of thine's path to serenity
If thine's
journey like Ulysses in Homer's story
Becomes thine’s own in
thine's own glory
Seek not the one who shoots arrows
Nor
one thou seeks in vain that will come to Humanity
for a better tomorrow
For therein lies human folly and the burden
of thine's sorrow
To wonder in disgust what ails one as one plows
through those sorrows
of yesteryears till there is no tomorrow
...
The signs of times are the signs for thee
For in
thee lies unbridled eternity
That which seeks the glory of the
Humanity
wanting to become-- and to be
Arrows that pierce
one's heart and soul and the signs inside of thee
are but
reminders of the Thou in love with thee ...
Seek in thee
the origin of Humanity
In the darkness of the early morn as it
awaits the colors of glory
In the silence of the thundering
explosion of the Universe and its story
Lies the birth of thee,
witnessed
by the angels with deep jealousy
How many eyes are
blinded by the brightness of pitch dark reality
Bathed in the
river of forgetfulness mistaken as a Ganges of prosperity
How many
eyes are pierced by those arrows of eternity
Mistaken the gift of
sight to bathe in the glory
and worship the gods and goddesses
of materiality
O' humanity
Did you not remember the
day in which
on one fine darkness of
neither day nor night we met?
In which thine has kept the promise
to be free and to agree to walk with dignity?
That time when no
forms nor substance nor appearance nor encapsulation makes thee?
Have
thou forgotten that moment of deep silence that resounded gloriously
like a symphony?
Did you remember what was told to thee?
Time
is created for thee in this journey
So that thine heart will
always be close to remembering thine self in all its glory
Time,
like the goddesses Kala, wait no Man nor promises Eternity
Time,
when will thou unfold thyself
for these earthly things that take pride in destroying boundaries?
NARRATIVES ON CULTURE, CYBERNETICS, AND COMPLEX SYSTEMS. PROSE, POETRY and MEMOIR PIECES.
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