“Because I Am”

“Because I Am”

Because I am I cannot doubt;
Because I asked the Muses much too much,
I found their questions only came when answers touch
The one who’d truly asked, a sudden thrall, another bout
Of wonderful, indeed as are they all, but not from inside out
But more than likely from a shirt I’d borrowed, shoes, and such
Accoutrements as pleased them all, my ëgo’s crutch,
Evasion and a sense of powers dark and sinister with clout
Enough to raise a summer’s gnats as armies in profusion
Reigning at the meadow’s edge no longer than the lightning lasts but flashes.
Yes, I always ran but found my way back home again for more–
In time, of course I found no one knocking at my door or keeping score,
Although these doubts I found to be the food of courage, yes; and fusion,
When it came left nothing but the need for rain to cool the coals and ashes.

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2 responses to ““Because I Am”

  1. Because I am, John … because I am me, I doubt, and I suppose I always will, as surely without doubt we become as Gods, Our reasoning cannot be wrong, Our thoughts always are true, and as to the questions ‘why’ ,,.. we can answer every one…without doubt… Like Uriah Heep….I am ‘most ‘umble’ (but hopefully not as unctuous) .. xPenx

    • You know, Ms. P, when it comes down to it, one of the “miracles” of life so far as I have seen it is the perfect fit; for every up, there is a down, for all downs, there is an up. For every moment well spent, there are moments gratuitously wasted; for every glory, there is abasement; every newborn baby is in fact dying and everyone dying, desiccated, enfeebled one will soon experience a “second coming,” a “resurrection.” They who claim to be above the need of God and/or all spiritual realities even though successful for a considerable period of time discovers quickly the embarrassment of passing gas or a sneeze at the wrong moment, or worse in broad daylight before the world and right smack dab in front of one’s own mother.

      In short, even the beauty of certitude is measured against the lack thereof and were it not for certitude, there could be no doubt. Ask me today, and I’m King Kong; tomorrow, the very essence of Porky Pig. In short, this entirely rich experience from birth to life to death and back again in triplicate and guaranteed for life by default only because all that is is nothing if not everything because in fact the very perception of life depends on a beating heart and well irrigated brain with all the rest down to every last hair while we breathe; yes, even when asleep. But that’s the rub, the dream.

      While we dream, we travel the universe and lift not a finger to do so. So it is when we come back that as much as we are free within our dreams, we are so very much the thralls of whatever breath or water, fire, and even the very earth on which we walk, spirits defined by materials; material at the service of the indestructible oneness of our own being, once created and set on our way through the maze of life.

      The choice is ours, of course: enthralled and amazed by time, space, and matter; detached and above the need of every breathe, every least sensation perceived because we are, again as a matter of choice, the survivor of the attack of every last molecule in the universe we inhabit, grateful for the slightest confirmation that, as one gospel song I came across recently states, the children of a God greater than the combined magnitude of all material existence, in short, we witness the greatest possible cynosure of a Cause greater than the sum of the parts of all existence perceived, and insofar as this is true, so, too, are any of the least of souls whether in the station of a subject married to present participle of the past perfect tense and therefore truly an organic whole or would be in a world of our own making; the womb the past tense of which elevated the experience to pure conjecture and positive conformation became recognized in conscious knowledge granted leave to address the experience of a future not exclusively expressed in the simple acknowledgement that we are in fact alive with the illusion that we have always been so.

      With the magnitude of in mind in such simplistic terms, equally simple is the conviction that we do indeed have a future. Unfortunately, insofar as nothing in this world escapes the indictment of certain natural change, we then face doubt as: 1) a natural exponent of experience, and 2.) experience that is always fresh off the press and entirely the indentured servants of denial within imperfect memory and fear, the greater poster child of ignorance and the opulent perversion of arrogance to which we owe our socks and which we so blithely refer to as providence (for want of a better word that rhymes with nothing else to say or do).

      Doubt, then, is indispensable for the soul and lethal to the mind, and regardless of apparent freedom or claims to freedom from it, every last man, woman, and child is saddled with it right up there with the need to breathe, and if anyone denies this to be true, he’s trying to sell something or wants to buy or acquire for the sake of acquisition only and not a whit to the intrinsic value of anything. No, it is not pleasant; yes, doubt is in fact a blessing; yes doubt is potentially lethal to the mind and absolutely indispensable to the progress of the soul.

      Anyone truly living need not worry about the effects of arrogance and hubris because he knows that doubt is just as much a subject to the law of diminishing returns as is faith. In short, if anything is impressive about the reality of existence it is the fact that life, itself, is hopeless and helpless and both are conditions, not diseases albeit everyone succumbs to disintegration in the end, and in spite of this obvious fact we continue to live by choice which in and of itself implies that notwithstanding the entire gambit of material failure and flaw, our choice is to live which in turn implies that for every lapse in faith, there is always recovery and for every illusion of faith, there is no such thing as a free lunch and sooner or later, here comes doubt again, as regularly as the need to go to the bathroom.

      Your comments confirm the fact that you have an exceptional understanding peculiar needs of healthy mind. “Because I am, John … because I am me, I doubt, and I suppose I always will, as surely without doubt we become as Gods, Our reasoning cannot be wrong, Our thoughts always are true, and as to the questions ‘why’ ,,.. we can answer every one…without doubt…”Again, it is no wonder that you have so many comments for each piece of work you write.

      John

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