Thursday, May 29, 2008



Who wants it?

I just watched Narnia and was reminded of the reality that we as humans are called to live in our own world. We have learned from our childhood dreams all we can, and now we must learn to live.


I wrote some poetry about this same reality last month and it seemed so appropriate to the moment

Waking up is hard.

To untangle one's self from the sticky web of dreams,

To lift from one's mind the fog of drowsiness,

Is the hard task of living.

The dreams that run through our subconscious minds

are just that, dreams.

They can not sustain us,

nor can they live by themselves.

It is our task to live.

To be human is to have all the capacities in the world carefully knit into our being,

All the incomprehensible wonders of the universe,

All the incredible burden of being awake.

In the garden we were fully awake.

It is what made us and separates us from our fellow creatures,

That we have the capacity to be awake.

We saw, as one alert and alive.

Now we see but through a glass darkly.

It is so hard to wake up,

And so easy to forget the reality of our situation.

I do not want to wake up most days.

I lay in bed and wish that I could spend all my years forgetting who I am,

to sink into the delightful realms of oblivion,

and forget that reality knocks on my soul.

To be asleep is to lose one's self in the vast and restful words of emptiness.

I am not challenged by my dreams.

They are all in my mind, and can not hurt me.

In the darkness behind my eyelids I can imagine all I want to.

It is so easy to be nothing more than the subconscious.

We have no cares, no obligations, for we have forsaken responsibility.

To live is to recognize the faces that peer through the windows of your dreams;

To hear the voices that scream their messages in hushed whispers.

We can not drug ourselves without consequence,

the lethargy of our dreams are a dying fantasy, empty as our own existance.

What comes of our dreams?

We are as our dreams, floating in and out of oblivion,

We are as ones lost in blissful forgetfulness.

There is some part of us that rebells against it,

That is restless to move, to breath, to escape the confines of the pillow.

There is a part of us all that is searching to escape the chains of our dreams.

Awake O sleeper, arise from death!

Abandon the shadows of night!

The Wind of the spirit shall be your breath, and the Light of heaven your sun.

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