Musings: In Search of the “Humble” by LJ Frank

Anon.

The architecture of existence evolves in a non-linear fashion and is best suited for growth when adaptable, for isn’t a lifespan a human concept as time is of its own dimension…and expressed best in the poetry of physics and the butterfly effect of emotions, with the appearance of uncertain minutes, that are most active in perceived silence, for one might ask, are their universal truths;

 How we surpass avarice that drips like excessive saliva from the lower lip while behind the closed doors of Trust, the mind is a hurried pilgrim, the heart may balk, but the media voices choose their celebrities, yet how many toys can one possess, banners, flags and tattoos of symbolism are but schemes and illusions of supposed individuality…the financier’s cache is played out on the other side…of the politicized accountant’s window, and wealth has its fashionable implants and procedures to reshape the body, still the soul suggests all is vanity;

 And the metaphor that God does not play dice with the universe is a poetic insight in to the laws of the cosmos in which a Creator set in motion according to those on that side of knowledge, and yet this Creator then departed, for prophets come and go, it is human to play dice with the Earth, and the humane is trapped somewhere between covetousness and compassion, while an unsettled stomach aches from a communion that was without the blessing of a red wine;

And the end of the meal is without a benediction, and the expense of reality is just a beginning…of a realization that the curious and honest soul might be forsaken…and thus, a search for a mystical meaning continues, as the sun offers showers of light on the path of our mortality.