A Poem on Many Things

When nothing but the truth is lost
How can blind men see
Saving at a blinding cost
So eagles can be set free.

Collecting the pain of a thousand debts
And mending a million hearts
Hiding away your regrets
Till the world in its ending starts.

Paste together a tapestry
Composed of never-ending life
Forget in the end your mastery
Of the things that caused you strife.

All of these things can be yours
Sufficing your soul be lost
Keep walking along the endless floors
And your feet will be the cost.

So grab the hand that reaches
From a sinking grave
Latch on to the mouth that teaches
In wisdom its words will save.

Pull water out of a pebble
And all men will be amazed
Pull aristocrat out of a rebel
A city still will be razed.

My message is not simple
Though only fools are
Take value not at the dimple
But trust in the hidden scar.

Hollow

Today, as I was walking down the street in front of my house, I saw a dead tree. Well, actually, I didn't know that it was dead at first. However, as I passed by, I hit one of its branches, which promptly dropped to the ground. Then, because the tree's quiet lack of life intrigued me, I walked up to it. It was bare, of course, and the bark was a light brown, with plenty of knots and holes. I followed the meaningless path of a lone ant up the trunk, and then sat down. For some reason, this spot, this thing, intrigued me.

First, I thought about the ant. Why was he here? Surely, as part of the incredible unstoppable force that is nature, he knew that the tree was dead. So why, then, did he continue to climb toward some unknowable goal? He must have been sent there, by his queen, for some mission of reconnaissance. Or was he a forsaken poet, one thinking blip of individuality in a monotonous ant civilization. Better still, a scorned lover, of his queen, perhaps, exiled to a dead, barren wasteland for loving she who is the mother of us all. As he reached the apex of his climb, he turned, and began the journey down. Then, it didn't matter as much, because he was gone, disappeared in a lapse of attention on my part.

Next, I contemplated the tree itself. The bark was still alive, or appeared so, so why was the tree dead. An idea struck me, and I knocked on the trunk of the tree like it was the door of a dear friend. A second later, a distorted version of my knock came back to me. Hollow. The tree was completely hollow. This struck a cord with me, and a sudden desire to wax metaphysical came over me. Was this not a metaphor for our own lives? Alive on the outside, but hollow and hurting on the inside? Can we revive ourselves, and if we do, what happens to that ant, that small person depending on our presence as a dead area to fulfill some goal? Is everything we do selfish; can we help ourselves and others at the same time.?

Then my head started to hurt, and I felt that my blood sugar was low. It was lunchtime, and my stomach was cursing me for my lack of punctuality. As I walked into my house, I stopped. I looked at the door I held in my hand and thought. Then I knocked one time. Hollow.

At times like these, who needs enemies?

While walking in downtown Austin today, it was hard not to wax introspective. It was a beautiful day, and frankly, being back in the States makes my day anyway. Looking at the majestic high-rise buildings surrounded by their toadying armies of squat, less ostentatious public buildings, nothing came to mind more than the people occupying said buildings.

It is easy for us, as people, not to think about the little things that make up our everyday lives. We are essentially self-centered, and worrying about the minutia of everyday life would drive anyone crazy. However, at times it's healthy to stop and think about certain aspects. Today, it was the people. Who are the people walking in and out of the buildings? What are they thinking? When they sit in their welll-furnished offices looking out over Austin, what do they see?

They wake up, eat breakfast, (hopefully) brush their teeth, take a shower, and then they disappear. They disappear into offices, into uniforms, into subway tunnels, restaurants, and schools. And, when we meet a fellow human being, we often treat them as a part of the scenery. Why? Because we have to.

I wish that I could take a random person on a street, sit down with them, and ask them about themselves. I wish that I could see everyone I meet as a human being. But then again, I'm human too. So, in the end, I don't have a solution. It's just something to think about on your way to work.