Sunday, March 7, 2010

Nomad in the Noon

Blazing heat penetrates my skin from open windows, but the sun's heat is insignificant when compared to the mind's. The birds sleep and I notice their soporific effects on me. They seem to have the trees to protect them and I observe them all silent even in their sleep. Like an eternity, inner peace remains even if it may be for a succinct spell of time. In five minutes, man may experience peace even while awake, rarely do I find such moments; I just know they are there, fleeting but never in vain.

Rays bleach the skin and one can feel it even without being exposed. When conversations follow the atmosphere there are arguments, then there are quarrels and finally broken transactions. Surprisingly, birds remain asleep without flying away. The tiresome arguments have left the scene quaking from the conflict. Trees have no choice but to remain still. The birds are probably not aware of the impact the situation has on them. Or maybe I am wrong and it may be that I am not aware of the impact the situation has on them.

A flower falls down to the ground as though to distract me. I cannot hear a single word spoken but in that space of silence a bee hums so as to tell me that music exists when no conversations take place. If I have to find it, I cannot choose to be overly disturbed by conversations that motion cause. The motion of speech brings about subject and object. What language may I speak to avoid conflict? What language may I speak to surpass motion? While in muse, the heat enters the room but the heat in the mind has escaped and man cannot help but possess his contradictions. If he wishes to avoid speech, he can do to await quiet afternoons with a notion that speech and motion are in the end, transient.

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