A Call to Thought

The wealth of the wise,
we preserve for posterity.
What can this mean,
this display of temerity?
To walk about as a student,
in a constant reverie,
assaulted on all sides by
questions of what it means to be,
Human. Yes human, it is a wonderful condition,
strange and unique, we stand in this world.
And we search.
Like a traveler we are placed
in an infinite maze.
We wander
eyes piercing, curiosity ablaze.
In this maze there are corners
containing wonders both great and small.
We may find a pile of gold and riches,
in another: a promise of life after maze.
Yet another we find nature, shrouded in beauty,
or a starving child to feed as one’s duty.
The traveler may wander from place to place,
is he meant for gold? nature? God? children?
Some commit themselves to one of these goals,
they sit down in the corner amidst gold or God
and they make a life of it.
Back to the maze, they forget its dark corridors,
they forget the paths not taken.
I have found myself in this maze,
I have wandered and I have seen many like me.
I passed by those who swam in their gold,
I passed by those who worshipped with zeal,
I passed by those who wandered and those who healed.
I have sat down with them in their corners,
seen what they have.
I have tried to be content in it,
but always the maze called out to me.
I could feel its mysterious recesses tugging at my soul.
Try as I may, my mind wandered from gold,
it wandered from God.
There are just so many corridors,
so many people.
Oh there are so many choices,
how can I know which to make?
Shall I sit with the lawyers, shall i sit with the bankers?
Shall I sit with the priests, or perhaps the homemakers?
No, none of these will do.
I must go with those wandering herds,
those confused souls looking down hallway after hallway.
Eyes rife with longing,
they search for a greater meaning.
It is not a race, oh you fatuous fools.
Life is not a one way track,
Alas! If only it were.
It is a maze, absurd and contrary,
it is a maze, endless and arbitrary.
And you are condemned to live here.
You are condemned to find your way in this maze
These waderers seek just this,
they will not be contented with just one of the corners.
I believe they are called students,
I believe they are called teachers.
Those who have chosen the life of the mind,
La Vita Contemplativa,
it is nothing more than the contemplation of these halls.
It is what I will do, it is what I must do.

…an extraordinary piece of thought – as if thoughts could come in pieces. It’s like being inside the mind of Zarathustra.

I liked this piece – thanks for sharing it. I thought it could have been broken up in two spots (to flow better) but that just my opinion; again, thanks for posting it.