Val enjoys writing prose in rhymes by always leaving a message of a life truism in each piece.
Many years ago, somewhere I read this definition of life:
"Life is the eternal struggle against sickness and death"
Now, while this may be true at our cellular and physiological level of being, isn't it so strange how to many of us it actually describes the way we live. From the moment we wake up, it isn't really anything like a "will to live" that's prompting us to get out of bed, but rather a sheer imperative to start a series of behaviors that will sustain our survival for yet another day.
In other words, it's something that we "have to do" -- not what we would "want to do".
And then, even if we do have some pleasurable activities in the schedule of that day awaiting us, we may not see how they are also just a part of what we "have to do" -- since we got a sort of addicted to them.
As I am writing now -- after a week or so has passed since I did it the last time -- I'm thinking of all those folks who feel compelled to do it daily, not realizing how it has become a drug of a sort, without which life would be void of its purpose. They may call it a "passion", while it's only a compulsion.
Then, some others have their "Friday-movie-day". And how many are looking forward to their yearly vacation, only to secretly feel bored at it, and hardly waiting to go home, to "get back to normal" -- which is including their work.
Why? Because vacations don't have a routine to be followed, since their whole life has become just one big routine which they may call their "comfort zone". They can't enjoy their vacations because they are not programmed to explore the unknown forms of experiencing, only to replay the familiar ones.
So, what is really life about? Why are we here?
Well, I may not speak for everyone, and yet, here are these three rhymed pieces saying something on the theme.
At the Bottom of Magic
Life is full of some unbelievable magic
with us magicians making dreams real
waking up could sometimes feel tragic
then it takes some more magic to heal.
We are witches and warlocks without knowing
with no need to drink anything like love potions
no magic spells to reap what we've been sowing
even appearing smart while full of insane notions.
Then we could also afford to exaggerate
to proclaim ourselves as some mini-gods
while we are mostly creating our own fate
even though with our god at constant odds.
However, when the curtain comes down
in the fanciful theater of our wishing mind
man is just little more than a pathetic clown
with so many hardly qualifying for humankind.
We make a lot of noise to appear right
not seeing clearly through smoke of pot
our world's state not making us very bright
but then, what the heck, we are all we've got.
After the Cycle of Life -- Then What?
So we get to be born out of a love and then we grow
to become socially acceptable and one of many
and we learn skills of living either fast or slow
to secure a respected social status, if any.
Well, then we procreate as all living creatures do
why nature made it so pleasant --don't even ask
while attaching nothing similar to any other cue
as if the most important and mandatory task.
Now we know pretty much our roles and skills
somehow believing that's what life is all about
seeing hardships and rewarded by few thrills
we love and we hate, believe, and we doubt.
And then what?
Is that all, but really all that made us worth existing
for, there we grow old, like a punchline to a joke
after all devotion, commitment, and persisting
comes the time for it all to go up in smoke.
The cycle of life completed, or was it really a goal
or all has been just a tease for an inner growth
a series of eye-openers to enlighten our soul
to have a life and wisdom -- and enjoy both.
That Luring Home in Heaven
Countless flickering diamonds sprinkled up above
in this clear starry night enchanting and calling
with something outlandish like a bizarre love
sending me messages with each star falling.
Sweet mystery overwhelming at times like tonight
million question marks hanging from each star
yet something so familiar even at first sight
like a long lost home luring from above.
Then my eyes drop down unwilling as with sores
just to face this graveyard of questions left to die
unattended, shunned, with all hate, greed, wars
bringing inspiration for one more trembling sigh.
Perhaps that is why every beautiful creature
goddesses, angels, and gods of every name
along with each and every ascended teacher
chose to dwell in heaven, avoiding this game.
But then, this vast, and sure empty space
this inspiration for loving and solemn prayers
maybe look so attractive from this known place
the home of all the familiar gamut of human affairs.
So, even if your heart has the key of home above
don't rush to get there, be a little of a happy clown
don't indulge in hate, anger, give a chance to love
and keep me company, for angels won't step down.
© 2021 Val Karas
Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on February 04, 2021:
I know a few Buddhists who would approve of that first description of life. :) Heck, when I was battling alcoholism, I would embrace that definition as well. Now, sober for fourteen years, like seems much brighter. Strange how that works out, 'eh?
Loved the poetry! Today life is fascinating for me, filled with wonder and mysteries and so much to experience.
Thanks for the reminder!