Original life seemed too uncertain,
trees needed conversion like pagan fancies
the civility of a wiser priesthood;
black dirt and running streams
hid fortunes from our childlike vision.
All that changed, thankfully,
with massive cities and industrial might,
little left to the dark unknowing
beyond the reach of grid and fence;
now we exist in the embrace of certainty
awakening to the future that may be ours.
Amazing images, and I greatly admire your mature, compact yet light composition style. Your words here seem to beg for deeper dwelling.
Gratitude for the Breath of Life, Liberty and the opportunity to pursue Love is this man’s only certainty.
From a scientific point of view, Certainty has been falsified, by both Karl Popper: “Open Universe” and Ilya Prigogine: “The End of Certainty”, (Time, Chaos and the New Laws of Nature).
I note a certain skepticism in this poem. It’s beautifully stated. I suspect that you might read especially the Popper, with a sigh of relief!
Thanks for this, Don – Such an excellent rebuke!
My personal belief is that the principle drive behind cults is the need for certainty. The terrible fears that require certainty are so easily manipulated. So different from the experience of natural balance born of already belonging to beauty…
An Ancient warrior – awake behind the pen.
Nice poem Don, but the certainty you speak of is surely an illusion. Perhaps we need it, or…?
GULP!…..yet……laughing all the way to Bhuddahood.
Your swift kick reminded me of a time when we cared not about certainty as we were so filled with assurance. Original life was such a delight. Remember when we taught water to run downhill? When we taught trees to put down roots first so they wouldn’t fall over? Ah, those were the days.
Now, with the future that IS ours? Who’s up for playing Wiser Priesthood?
Chillingly reflective of a world in which a billion people are starving, wars (military, political, gangs) exist on every “civilized” continent, and Rupert Murdoch’s reach grows longer with every advertising dollar.
Along with your poem, I recommend Pema Chodron’s “Comfortable With Uncertainty”.
Thanks, Don.