Footsteps in the dark, I hear a silent patter of feet, not coming towards me but moving away. It’s past midnight. And it’s the dreamers, they’re running. Running into the woods to live entirely, to “suck out the marrow” even if it means choking on the bone, these are the crazy ones who define the world. What do they see?
That dragonfly with dewdrops on its wings settled rightly yet cautiously on that tree branch, the rock in the midst of autumn leaves where the tired trekker sits and looks at the scenery. And a deer, as it peeps from behind trees and stares curiously at the humans…
Why do they have three skins? Why don’t they look up but look down as they walk? They seem afraid of the tiny flies that fly past their ear, and the lizards that they could crush with a mighty stomp. Weird animals they are.
We are the most curious animals, social animals, cultural animals and personal animals. We call the animals as brutes, but we are the ones devoid of balance, of peace and of a place in the world, until we learn to travel and open our eyes to the larger perspective, and learn to accept in all humility our futility of purpose and the futility of perseverance, and then decide to persevere anyway, because it is what we as humans are famous for. We know it’s purposeless, that to die is easy. Yet we live.
The solitary owl at night staring with those big eyes, seeing into our future. Almost as if to say…
Why do these two legged animals make so much noise? Why encroach into my territory, these mannerless brutes? They must be strong things indeed to be so confident and loud and boisterous. Or they must be children. They’ll learn.
We’ll learn. Illuminate ourselves. Free thought is beauty, treasure it. Exploit it. Be foolish, silly and creative. Just don’t ever be ordinary.
Meliora 