For several soundless seasons passed
I’ve searched my future, present, past
I’m looking for the tools I had
Back in some age where days were glad
I thought about the skills I had, and subsequently, I began to grope my mind
Language would follow me
Through my days
Then help me translate
The joy and the wretched,
The divine, the unknown,
All those factors to comprehend
which assemblage to comprise
The tapestry of living, and it’s curious haze
Of feelings, movements, sights of colour
On Earth, this brain and this spirit, still yearns to discover,
The beauty and the wretchedness
The father and the mother
The political and the personal,
Those Social concepts we arranged
To define and to simplify, the glorious and the grand,
The wreck, and the power,
The elements within
Such strange and so shielded, life which evolution made Human,
Spiced and roasted,
Experimental, perhaps.
Humanity could be a mere consequencil living dish
I find it most gorgeous, while resenting it too,
This confusion of mind,
The stubborn ‘gift’ for mankind
The enigma, which refuses
To be tamed for convenience,
Of We humans who seek
Answers, or gold, wealth in possession or thought
I marvel, in conclusion, at
The language we made,
Such a step could be taken, towards philosophical first aid.
Mind-in-motion 