Tag Archives: Philosophy

In Our Desire

In our hearts we found our desire,
in our desire we found pain.
In our pain we found our fire,
in our fire we found art again.

In our mind’s eye we defined our goals,
In our hearts our emotions’ fires,
In our eyes our souls hold
our aspirations and desires.

We perceive what is around us,
knowing accurate perception is rare.
What does that say for our pasts,
or of the memories we have there?

We trust in what we know, knowing
what we know is not all that is there.
We see what we see without seeing,
interpreting vibrations in the air.

What is this? What is that?
The object of my desire,
it’s not what I perceive
but what I believe,
that fuels the emotions’ fire.

To see that is to know
that deep in the soul
lays the key to happiness.
Not through greed, nor through gain,
but perception’s true accurateness.

 

 

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Dreaming Fish

There’s no way you can convince me that you’re not a fish in an endless sea, dreaming a dream of you and me.  For all I know and all you say, there’s no way to prove, no way to say
that you are not a fish sleeping in an eternal sea dreaming of you dreaming of me.

We could be clams with pearls of sorrow dreaming dreams that turn into tomorrow.

We could be lichens on rocks dreaming we wear socks.

You can’t prove different to me.

But am I dreaming your dream or are you dreaming me?
Is all I am just what you see?

I doubt it.

Perhaps you are in mine.

You could kill me; but that proves naught,
for perhaps in your dream you dreamed this thought,
for all you know you dreamt that, too;
all those long years spent in school,
those tedious days and tedious nights
and you dreamed your dreams of thrills and fights.
You dreamed your life, your love, your friends;
you dreamed the stars, the fields, the earth,
and there’s just you – sitting on the bottom of the ocean.

An urchin, a lichen, a star
sitting on the bottom of an endless sea
sleeping and dreaming and dreaming
all that is to be.

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Eagles In His Eyes

A an old friend of mine and I were headed to the funeral of a mutual friend; both were much older than me.  I’m driving along and he looks up at the sky.

“Look!  Eagles,” he excitedly announces, peering up and pointing a withered finger.  His thick lensed glasses make his eyes large and owl-like as he looks at me, grinning in delight.  Hunching over the steering wheel, I glance up.  All I can see are a couple turkey vultures wheeling overhead.  I grimace, thinking about something dead.

“No,” I say, settling back in my seat.  “Those are vultures.”

He looks at me, then looks at them doubtfully.  He leans forward, squinting against the sun and shielding his eyes with his hand.  Finally he settles back in his seat and looks at me.

“Eagles,” he firmly declares.

I think for a moment.  Wouldn’t that be great?, I thought somewhat enviously, somewhat bitterly, if I could see eagles instead of vultures when there are only vultures there?  To me it seemed to represent a potential way of thinking; of coming to positive terms with some aspects of myself – and life beyond.  If only I could see eagles instead of vultures – like he does, I thought again with that envious notion.  How much better it would be!

I glanced at the sky one more time.  The ‘eagles’ were still wheeling there – their black wings extended, their trade-mark turkey vulture pattern of black and white showing up clearly as they banked against the sky . . . .

“Yes,” I said, settling back in the seat again.  “Eagles!  Whatta ya know . . . what a special thing that is . . .”  I smiled – and he smiled – and I think it was a sort of smile we hadn’t smiled in a long time – one of knowing and accepting some things; making the best of them, despite them – because of them . . .

Or in some cases, deciding that the eagles were vultures – and vultures eagles sometimes . . .

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