Saturday, July 27, 2013

Supreme Understanding


By Mory Keita

The horizon appears far above my head,
The sun gleams without end behind cloudy curtains
Like some eternal flame blown by an eternal being.

Beyond my sight lie comets, stars and distant galaxies.
Is it reasonable to seek things beyond one’s comprehension?
To ponder upon the unknown, the unseen?
To say, all things can be seen through the mind?

I have seen a ladder spreading from continent to continent,
I have seen all there is to be seen on earth, and I was not amazed.

Should I build a ladder spreading from earth to heaven?
Should I climb it to see the farthest corners of the universe?
Is it possible to understand the universe, to spread it across a table?

Perhaps, there is no such things as supreme understand; not in this world.

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1 comments:

Dr. kold_kadavr_flatliner, MD, the sub/dude said...

Have you seen Seventh-Heaven? I have, twice. Lemme gonna wanna show it unto thee in words...

You're a writer? Crool shoes. Me, too (kinda, sorta). I know for a fact, however, you gotta whole lotta intelligence behind those two ears, girl; thus, I wanna give you my finite existence: to intrinsically value the Great Beyond which I’ve learned to appreciate, to visualize the fundamental reality of infinity is why I‘m here for a teeny-weeny amount of time. Looky here...

Precisely why I had our ‘philanthropic + epiphany’ (=so much to give + vision): wanna see a perfectly cognizant, fully-spectacular, Son-ripened-Heaven?? … yet, I’m not sure if we're on the same page if you saw what I saw. Greetings, earthling. Because I was an actual NDE on the outskirts of the Great Beyond at 15 yet wasn’t allowed in, lemme share with you what I actually know Seventh-Heaven’s Big-Bang’s gonna be like: meet this advanced, bombastic, ex-mortal Upstairs for the most juvenile-lip-service, extra-groovy, secret-sauce-paradox, pleasure-beyond-measure, Ultra-Yummy-Reality-Addiction in the Great Beyond for a BIG-ol, kick-some-ass, party-hardy, robust-N-risqué-passion you DO NOT wanna miss the sink-your-teeth-in-the-smmmokin’-hot-deal enveloping, engulfing our catch-22-excitotoxins. Cya soon, girl…

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