So far away…
So long ago…
Through self-serving lust,
Through self-destroying thirst,
We lost the gift of Eden.
It wasn’t stolen:
We gave it up,
We threw it away…
But, in our hearts, we have never forgotten where we belong,
We have only only forgotten the way there.
We have lost the road.
It was there yesterday…
Maybe it will be there tomorrow…
Maybe we will find it, in all our shuffling
We never lose hope.
Even in Despair, we don’t lose hope.
Even in Death, we don’t lose hope.
Maybe Death itself is the way there.
If only we knew…
But maybe it isn’t so far away at all.
Maybe Eden is just around the corner, veiled by a curtain.
Maybe it is just behind some invisible door.
Or maybe we are there now.
Maybe our Souls are there,
Asleep in some Eternal flower-strewn Meadow, by a crooning river,
Asleep and dreaming this dream we call Time.
Maybe that is why we always seem to hear the echo of far-off music
As if the song of that river were finding its way into our ears,
Into our sleep.
If we could find a chink in the armor…
A crack in the Matrix…
If we could take a pill or look in a mirror or find a key…
Would we wake up and find ourselves where we wanted to be all along?
Would we open our eyes and look upon a place we knew to be Home?
Would we instantly know ourselves treasured children, in the arms of One we always loved?
Would we shed these chains, these heavy, heavy chains, and be free?
Maybe we are there now.
Maybe we are not Mere Humans.
Maybe we are Eternal Beings…
Maybe we are Infant Gods, cast under an evil serpentish Spell.
Or maybe it is a Good Spell,
A Nursery Spell, an Eggshell,
A spell to protect our tender Spirits
Until the time should be right for us to Hatch.
This hope I will keep inside me.
I will hold it safe.
I will nurture it and watch it grow.
Maybe, like a magical beanstalk, it will lead me back to my lost and longed-for Home,
My Eternal Self, My Un-Dream,
A land Outside the Spell,
Outside the Shell,
Beyond this tiny Seed of Time.
I will call it Oraleen.
So far away…