Creatures with Depth

There was once a little boy, one who listened keenly and shouted incrementally. He gave a sense of personhood whilst still being a child. He had lost the path to himself as he found listless joys to fill in the time. He was loath to realize that simple joys await all; complexity of joys give rise to confusion. He realised adults have it much worse. They keep their minds with great refrain; the kind which is not common in children his age.

He only knows what it means to be at the helm, to experience anew each experience, each practice and each ritual. They all correlate to one another to create a sense of order and cohesion. However, he longs to see himself adrift whilst still being firmly clamped. This makes no sense to the adult within him.

He refused to learn vicariously but soon realised that all experiences can be captured in language. The adult told him that there is more to doing than there is to listen. The boy said “what of listening to a melody coaxed out of joy and sorrow concurrently? Is that an experience that can be captured in language?” The adult laughs and quietens down to a murmur “Language amplifies melodies, it cannot make or break it”.

The delicate balance of existing within the narrow band of joy and listlessness is one that the adult is familiar with. He hopes never to have to explain that to the little child, so as to let him keep the wondrousness of the world. Wondrousness fades away as understanding settles in its place. It takes immense courage by the adult to renew their sense of understanding to accept the wondrous outlook of the child.

Everything is in flux, one’s understanding of one’s self is at odds with the conscience of the self. This is underscored by a sense of guilt that is planted among the weeds of other emotions.

The child knows to skim the surface while signalling to the depths of the ocean that there are creatures worthy of being understood.

To be late is to be obstinate

There lies a conundrum in fate

For it occurs to us too late

That is a casting blow to slate

Prime numbers give little change

For they take supremacy as game

Lions recognize what is tame

Humans go on lighting the flame

Weakness is a force that elevates shame

Shame in strength occurs in blame

Heft is sifted through sand plains

Left is considered an occasion for rains

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