O Lord what fools we tend to be.
The facts of life we do not see.
In zones of rights each one resides,
When in real life there are no sides.
We’re blinded by our sense of rights
That justifies our deadly fights
Which end it should be plain to see
With one left standing; it is me.
What is the point? We must ask, “why?”
When we’re alone who’ll hear our cry?
We need each other to survive.
“We” is the state to feel alive.
God knows our rights of self are wrong
But cannot modify our song.
Together we must change our tune,
For if we don’t it will end soon.
There will be doubt that we can change.
Our choice of ‘notes’ yields such a range;
But harmony is not for dreams.
It is within “Our Law” it seems.
Our bodies, minds are all the same
Within new meaning for each name.
Our spirit can leave us all buoyed.
Then, our reactions to the void.
Our bodies have three sides in one.
They’re all the same integration
Of realized capacity,
And knowledge and activity.
Our minds are too, three sides in one.
They’re all the same integration
Of realized capacity,
And knowledge and activity.
Regarding every body/mind,
The structure’s sizes we will find
Unique, but they’re identically
Joined shapes with equal sides of three.
In life our spirit is our light.
It’s range can be from dim to bright.
With body/mind it too resides.
The third of all four equal sides.
The fourth, we to the void react.
The void’s existence is a fact.
A missing fact we can’t deny,
We find it asking the last “why?”
The evidence of our life says
We can react in different ways;
But when unique we cannot be
Reactions blend two out of three.
The first is from biology.
“Ideal”, it’s how we came about
In general, it’s “reaching out….”
To ends of our capacity,
To others who we need, to be,
And making life’s ideal tripod
We naturally reach out to God.
This natural activity
Is hard; but living it can be
The only way that we can feel
Innate ‘rewards’ which make life real.
It’s hard since there’s no written ‘light’,
Just faith and hope that it is right.
Then there’s responsibility
To God, to others and to ‘me’.
A sensitivity we need
To God’s spirit and too indeed
To that of others and our own.
Then there’s the caring we must hone.
When facing what we cannot see,
The courage we must have, to be.
To see life’s end we have to wait.
Alone, we must self-motivate.
Although the hardest of the three
Ideal rewards we all shall see.
There’ll be our spirit shining bright
Allowing us to feel the ‘light’.
We’ll feel control, we’ll also sense
Our ‘strings’ knot free, ideally tense.
Frustration, pace and urgency
Three others optimum will be.
A freedom by the ideal bound,
Fulfillment, satisfaction found.
Self-worth, pleasure, joy, elation,
Security and happiness
Reward as well, ideal success.
Then too when living the ideal
Faith justified we all will feel.
Among the last we’ll also find
A purpose, meaning, peace of mind,
Unending love; hope from it springs.
Rewards to all, the ideal brings.
Subjective though rewards may seem
The fact is they are not a dream.
The ideal message that they send,
Self-realization is the end.
The next reaction we can’t live.
It’s absolutely restrictive.
Our death it guarantees yet still
We try in vain the void to fill.
Meaning to life we try to give.
We think this is the way to live.
Though one, to ‘see’ it I must state
Within the one I’ve gathered eight.
The first of eight a name I call
With answers to the question “Why?”
In vain to fill the void we try.
A materialistic one
Gives us a task that can’t be done.
It matters not how much we spend
To fill the void; it will not end.
In romantic ones we’ll find
Supporting notions which are blind.
Love of another we can ‘see’
Will never fill the void in ‘me’.
With our reaction factual
The void within we can’t keep full
Of all the facts we know combined
Nor with key facts we think we’ll find.
The void we also try to fill
With family but never will.
It matters not the family
The emptiness will always be.
If occupational we choose,
The fight to fill the void we’ll lose.
Careers and jobs we think we need
To fill our life will not succeed.
We strive to gain pre-eminence.
Another one of our attempts
To fill the void will also fail
Regardless of the peaks we scale.
The eighth reaction we can pick,
The multi-part anesthetic.
With fixes such as drugs and sex
We fill the void with no effects.
It matters not the ways we choose.
We will not their description lose
By recombining into one
This end restrictive reaction.
Anti ideal in most respects
Are its demands and known effects.
Just where rewards were optimum
Are punishments their maximum.
Is trying thus the void to fill.
Resulting from this reaction
Is our active self-destruction.
The last of three we too can’t live.
It’s absolutely permissive.
It’s giving up so we can’t see
The deadly inactivity.
Rewards we find in the ideal,
None in this absolute we’ll feel.
The dead end of this inaction
Is our passive self-destruction.
See each reaction as a thread.
With no ideal we would be dead.
So it must be part of the blend.
The other part is either end.
The blends form a continuum
That of reactions is the sum.
From restrictive to permissive,
Are the reactions we can live.
Midway between is the ideal.
To either side life is less real.
The more permissive we can leave.
The more restrictive tints our weave.
With eight coloured, the ideal clear,
We weave the ‘fabrics’ we hold dear.
Although we weave unique attempts
We can predict the consequence.
The ideal weave we can not see.
It’s natural activity.
As coloured threads we add to it,
We lose the clearness bit by bit.
There is a limit weight and so
When threads we add then some must go.
That’s how the ideal we could live
Becomes one hue, most restrictive.
When down from the ideal we slide
Into the more restrictive side,
Our ‘fabrics’ lose their naturalness
While gaining more restrictiveness.
From reaching out in the ideal
We focus more on what’s less real.
To halfway we see one to eight.
From there, down to the single state.
We reach to God for a hand up
To natural acts that fill our ‘cup’.
We beg from God but are annoyed
There’re no hand-outs to fill the void.
God fills one third of the ideal.
When “reaching…” out then God we’ll feel.
God isn’t in religious thread.
When wound up in it God is dead.
We blend some of these two and get
Reactions that make up a set.
How far we are from the ideal
Dictates amounts of each we feel.
Our knowledge is the facts we seize
While “reaching…” to capacities.
When gathered just the void to fill
The facts become unnatural.
From the ideal to restrictive
Facts change from those we need to live
To those of which it can be said
Are all the ones that leave us dead.
The ideal, in us love creates.
With less ideal, love’s loss dictates.
One living at the restrictive
Consumes all the love we can give.
Our only right is reaching out
Despite the evidence about
That shows us clinging to our song
We think all right but is part wrong.
We think we’re right throughout the range
Though the amounts of each thread change,
For while the ideal will decrease
Our sense of right will never cease.
The consequences we last feel
In our reactions more unreal;
Rewards decreasing, complements
The ever growing punishments.
Our ‘fabrics’ are collectively
The ‘fabric’ of humanity.
It is a ragged, colored hash.
Our actions with all others clash .
We battle for we’re all the same
Though differences we give the blame.
We see the similarity
In where we point activity.
Activity that’s natural
Directs us on lines parallel
To others, our capacity
And out to God, the ideal three.
Is all directed inwardly
Toward the void we have within,
Opposed to others’ direction.
Whatever threads, it matters not
A different weave that we’ve all got.
It is inward direction picked
That puts us all into conflict.
Now getting back to our self-rights
That generate our “deadly fights”,
It’s human rights philosophy
That makes most conflict that we see.
There is for sure some other thread
In the life ‘fabric’ that we spread.
But in it is our right we say,
To fill the void in our own way.
As long as we defend these rights
We will continue with our fights.
By adding more “rights” thread to it
Our conflict will grow bit by bit.
And even with the status quo
There is no other place to go
But to the self-destructive end.
Our conflict proves this is the trend.
The action that we need to take
In which we all must have a stake,
Is adding clear thread to our weave,
A choice that we just cannot leave.
With choices made we will begin
To see a change that starts within.
From self-destruction we will turn
As ways of the ideal we learn.
We’ll sense the punishments abate.
For one, we will no longer hate;
And though the void will not be filled,
Ideal rewards will leave us thrilled.
In this “real life” no sides there’ll be.
We all will live in harmony.
Our life lines individual
Will not cross running parallel.
If “Our Law” states what we’ll become,
We could add up to just one ‘sum’.
We might then find when in our place
Together we reflect God’s face.