WORLD
A futile, cosmic attempt at permanence.
All things known
‘coloured’ by all things imagined.
A moving ‘roundish’
ball to which we cling … wondering why.
A blue dot in the
cosmos that somehow evolved to know itself.
For all of us our home
where we experience the same things differently.
The ‘residue’ of what
passes in and out of our mushy, little, cerebral ‘box’.
A breathtaking,
floating image we have of a bluish ball pulsating ‘with purpose’
in a black void.
Cohesive, fragmented
body of matter, energized, covered with changing shapes and
temporary life forms.
A wondrous
conglomeration of connected, structured molecules both inanimate
and animated and only appreciated by you and your kind.
A quiet, confined
‘place’ without discernable walls that each person finds
themselves in not knowing exactly how and why they arrived nor
where they might be ‘off to’.
- Perhaps a world
is a world only when ‘stuff’ appears connected.
- Perhaps the world
is what we perceive it to be; perhaps there are as many
worlds as there are people.
- Perhaps the world
for us is not the world for any other creature; perhaps we
alone create the ‘world’ daily.
- Perhaps there are
three ‘worlds’: The solid, the sentient and the spiritual;
perhaps only the later remains intact.
- Perhaps a world
is a concept of something whole and complete that allows us
to view complexity simplistically.
- Perhaps the
vastness of what we perceive prods our optimistic,
presumptuous nature to envision limitless possibilities.
- Perhaps
rearranging the elements to suit our purpose has enabled us
to play god; perhaps we too often ignore this
responsibility.
- Perhaps our
momentary flight of awareness prepares us for unimagined
release and spectacle; perhaps the cosmos is but a
chrysalis.
- Perhaps there are
worlds within worlds within worlds that are always changing
and dependent upon each other without ever knowing it.
- Perhaps those who
‘glory’ in the dawn of each new day appreciating the
experiences, the constant learning and the exhilarating
growth through loving … perhaps they are the ones living in
the ‘real world’.
ESSAY ON WORLD by EDWIN
O’SHEA
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