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Poetry: runner, flyer: feral consciousness, arbitrary flight: spiritual growth: poem

A book excerpt from the spiritandflesh.com religion and spirituality online library.

 

             

  

 

the runner

 

             Neither wild nor tame, we are feral lambs roaming mad between fence and forest. Belonging nowhere, abandoned everywhere. Bolting without recognition, without reason, without need. Just bolting. Here, there, everywhere, and none. Terrified, ferocious, and crazed like alien beasts lost from their herd, shepherd, territory, instinct, and wonder.

  

 

the flyer

  

We are but thin albatrosses, forever struggling above the infinite sea, though we do not belong forever in the sky. We belong to what cannot be found- land enough to rest our weary souls upon. Oh, we are great flyers and all, and indeed we could remain eternally on wing. But it is only because there is no place to land without drowning in the froth, or being consumed by one of the monstrosities lurking rapaciously below in the deep, that we continue to beat indifferently into the gusts, and fly away wasted, with nowhere to sleep, to dream, to be.

 

We are the drones not killed by the Queen; we have consummated, and conceived, but we were not consumed. And so we now fly about, here, there, everywhere, and none, for no reason but because we have no reason. And, well, because ...we can fly.

            Reason cannot fly. That is our reason for flying.

 

 

(excerpted from THE DREAM OF BEING: aphorisms, ideograms, and aislings, by Jack Haas)

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Books by Jack Haas,

Autobiography, Memoir, Spirituality, Mysticism, Comparative Religion, Poetry, Art, Photography.