Noah's Lark

What is meant by survival? Survival is linked to the measure of dollars possessed and the ability to use them to control the surroundings. Some humans beg, borrow and steal to achieve royal status and live a life of luxury, while others are without the necessities of life and are forced to take the less traveled highway of backsliding disappointment linked with poverty. Men, women, and children are emptied, hollowed out by society’s throw-away careless attitude. The Almighty Dollar Bill we chase blinds us from what is truly important, that being human compassion.

There is a heavy price to pay for fortune and fame. We grow up knowing that money does not grow on trees nor are banks generous enough to hand over sizeable amounts. To many, it seems impossible to get ahead. Societies ingrain in our subconscious minds, from the time that we are young, that survival comes with a cost. There are tremendous penalties for financial failure and the human wolves of society are always waiting for an opportunity to huff and puff and blow your house down.

The delicate balance between Nature and materialism has taken on new meaning, creating an imbalance throughout the Earth. Signs of greed and devastation are everywhere. No longer are the oceans as blue or crystal clear as they once were. No longer is the air as clean as it once was. Doom, despair and danger looms overhead like black clouds bursting, spitting poisonous rain as a form of punishment for destroying Nature’s way. Looking into the souls of mankind, there is the smell the fear of extinction. The bleeding-hearts cry out to be heard, like a bad burn where the brain is slow to respond to crisis.

Do we dare ask ourselves if we should charge into the nightmare with open eyes? Or do we just stay dormant while our dream deliver us distorted forms of true reality? Our thoughts channel hidden desires, carrying forward the paths that lies ahead, always in perpetual motion whether good or bad.

We just keep plodding along like cattle in captivity, wading to the trough for another sip of water or an offering of feed. The routine never changes and the outcome is always the same. If only but for a brief moment we could stop to hear the wind whistle its tune or hear a robin deliver its song. Then, and only then, would we begin to realize that life without substance is a life without meaning.