Tell Me, O Innate Noesis

What dread will surprise me,
O you dark den?
To stroke lines and curves
with empty pen;
To bestow ranting words,
want to be free;
To take stiff like a grey wool
into the place of fury.

What pigment will stain me
O apple of one’s eye?
To paint picture of beauty,
to color with dye;
To draw a shape of madness
and texture of kind;
To indulge the will of hands
and pacify my mind.

What mist will annoy me,
O innate noesis?
How that hokey kind of life
spread its genesis;
To breathe a worker of steel
and a giver of bliss;
To exclaim eureka!!!
with thrills and worries.

What noise will deafen me,
Sound of silence?
To hum the tune of love
and the seethe of hate;
To soften the buzz of world,
playing their game;
As sweet wind blows by,
drifting away their name.

What mud will mess me up,
O you dirt of art?
To mold the shape of soul,
ready to stand;
To raise the image of brave,
man to admire;
And to bring the dead hero
back again to life…

© S. R. Camus, 2015. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

We Love Mystery More Than Knowledge

There are many of us think miracle is like of those cases that quite strange and unusual. A supernatural event caused by supernatural being. What you didn’t know about miracles is its true meaning; its true nature that had been hidden behind its known definition. To me, miracle is a question we don’t want to answer. It has why and how we didn’t wish to know. We don’t care what it really means. We don’t care what it really wants to show. Sometimes, the answer is the miracle itself, but we are blinded. We want it to be remained unknown. It is because we love mystery more than knowledge. We love unknown more than knowing at all.

What we usually do when we encounter something seems so hard to explain? Do we stop to examine? No. We definitely do not. We stop to wondering. We stop and exclaimed. We stop and give conclusion without reasoning. Ah! It’s a miracle! Why is that so? It’s just because we don’t know.

We don’t know how cancer was healed even without medication, therefore, it’s a miracle.
We don’t know how the universe created, therefore, it’s a miracle.
We don’t know how could our wishes came true, therefore, it’s a miracle.
We don’t know why tree grows.
We don’t know why birds fly.
We don’t know why the sun rises from the east.
We don’t know anything, therefore, it’s a miracle at least.

We never knew that cancer is actually a living cell in which ineffective against death. Therefore, the death of those living cancer cells is a miracle.
We never knew atoms were forged inside the star and some of them were created right after the supernova. Therefore, the existence of everything is a miracle.
We never knew that everything may happen coincidentally as what you actually wish for. Therefore, it’s a miracle.

We make conclusion without using reason. We are satisfied to what we see but not what we should know. There are a lot of things we didn’t know except miracle.

Instead of having astounded by what we can find and learn, we were rather amazed and satisfied when we found its strangeness. Like wondering children. And we haven’t noticed that, actually, they were far better than us! Yes- They were. Because they do ask questions unlike us. They know how to ask question unlike us. Sad but it’s true. They do exactly what we can’t do. If they were capable to do experimentations and data collections, they would really precede our potentiality. It is quite subtle to us that they are curious about what they have seen amusing. They are thirsty to find the answers from those questions we never ask ever.

For the last thing, let’s make all things out in order to waken up our sleeping curiousness.
It is not a miracle just because we don’t know why or how. We don’t know only because we never dare to ask somehow. I think saying the following once again make it more sense and finally we could realize what we’ve done wrong.

That is nothing but these:

We love mystery more than knowledge. We love miracles more than anything else. Do we realize these?

© S. R. Camus, 2014. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.