A follow on from a previous post. Find it here
Martin Luther King, father of “The Dream”, spoke of freedom, a freedom from slavery. The shakles of prejudice hanging from his wrist, he spoke with passion and commitment to the envy of the common white man far removed from dreams and passion.
Today, the common mans wrists ache like once that of the enslaved blackman, and so too does his back but not from whistling whip kissing the skin. No. Instead, wrists and backs ache from our prison cells: a place we reside defeated with ego torn and dreams fading into themes of nightmarish pattern sounding and ringing as alarm bells scare us awake before the crack of dawn, too many days a week.
And what of our desire? It trembles behind dissapoinment for fears reminiscint of play-yard bullies’ vicious taunts. Height increased of those that point and laugh, girls breasts grow voluptious; and so too their tales beyond covered mouth by hand. World size seems to expand as our minds aim for clouds and our bodies wrestle with natures advancement of our flesh and bone.
All this, yet our worlds shrivle and our territories wilt, confining us to bastardized cells for rest upon a long days labour. We embrace minimalism and fashionable cloths with not so deep pockets. Atlas, with our very own jester, square and plasmatic, who should say we are not entertained!
No one may suggest that we are not ambitions like the days of our youth, still, tall we stand on own or with stiletoo. Yet, our muscles grow, atrophic, and like the breasts of a woman grow, taking on a life of their own almost alien to the chest of the body, our wastes expand voluptuously.
Oh, but who would dare to riducle one mans greed or anothers pleasure. Who dare point a finger! Like seeds watered and roots rooted to one day bloom of beauty, our inner senses feel compelled by external aids to embrace: to consume!
Perplexed by riddles I grabble like student with master upon a thought: where has the animal gone from natures beauty? Where is life in the life we are living?
It is time.
It is time to dream again. It is time for us to awake. Our people, our nation, our family and our friends may stand sleeping, but like cracking speed and precison of execution, the standing sleeping will fall like dominos and lay out with their bodies afresh a trail, a path, a destination. The shape of a mans hand rested upon is eyes is far from figure, but from the right distance he may see shape and form.
Let us stand back from the path of fallen dominos and see direction and take with wind. Let us take “The the first step in faith, we don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step”.
A mans life viewed from a distance is grandiose when compared to the will and action of his most immediate desire. Shakles will not need keys, and backs will rise with brawn and vigor. Stretching arms to sky, and eyes gazing, once again, at clouds and stars: as they once did in their former glory. All this when we dream of distant desires.
Drare to dream. Dare to imagine. As father EMC2 radiates from beyond nature, “Imagination is everything, it is the preview of life’s coming attractions”
Are dreams your reality?
Sure, who would point a finger?