Anguish of the Caged Falcon
Soliloquy of the Caged Bird
Soliloquy of the Caged Falcon
The spirit does indeed get dyed with the colours of the false self. This false self consists firstly of the accrued knowledge in the intelligent sounding sentences handpicked regarding subject matter we think we understand and are so proud to use as arrows in conversations in order to impress or attain the upper hand hoping to gain power and influence. The trait is visible in all common men/women in the form of money or substance over spirituality.
The tendencies and emotional responses we developed as children, the things our parents and forefathers wrongfully learnt and passed on, our false perceptions regarding perfection and happiness in life; we must question everything that makes no spiritual sense. All the wisdom across the entire history of mankind urges us to let the false self go, to abandon all immature perceptions we carry around since we were children. Our emotional defense mechanisms and desires from our younger years and puberty are still acting as the core of our persona. Time to let go.
Some (most) waste an entire lifetime
their free spirits enslaved by decaying tyrants
that they themselves create,
wondering why the walls are always closing in,
why the summers are always short lived and eclipsed by the rain,
why their days fly by like a falcon swooping down on its prey,
why their emotional state is ever changing like grains of sand
blown haphazardly to the four directions by the harsh desert winds.
This is the exact sort of slavery which gives rise to stress, anxiety and depression. Freedom, then, is the name of patience and steadfastness in belief and faith, respectively.
The depth of language is narrow, but the scope of meaning is large:
This bird of Majesty was meant to soar
among Angels in the High Heavens
Basking in Divine Radiance.
They managed to lock it in the cage of desire
And covered the cage in sheets of deceit
Their days were a furnace of stress and agony
And their cries could be heard over millennia: Woe is me, woe is me.
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© 2019 Mohammad Durrani