The Projectionists (a poem)

THE PROJECTIONISTS

Unendingly we puzzle and wrestle
To make some kind of a sense of
This motley old world of ours

This mad higgledy-piggledy mishmash
Of ecstasy and misery, joy and pain
On-off light and dark, good and evil

Why oh why oh why, we wonder
Does whoever created such beauty
Permit also ugliness, such cruelty?

What stories and parables we devise
Telling of gods and devils locked tight
In pitched battle until we know not when

After some time looking into the case
Internally as well as beyond these eyes
Decided we see projection, in both senses

The dualistic dual played out in the world
Actually takes place within our own minds
No matter why we may find ourselves here

Ours is the awesome power and free will
That is our inheritance and our birthright
And also therefore ours the responsibility

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on October 12, 2018, in Poetry, Prose With Pretensions and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. Indeed, the responsibility…. that’s what so many forget in their wrestling with these forces, these conundrums. Nicely written as always, Ben.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Leaving aside for the moment the insanity of my country and likely yours, I can think naught but that we grow from experiencing adversity, perhaps unique to this planet Earth we live upon. We do well to accept it, work within its parameters instead of wishing it were otherwise. And yes, there is always choice! Many, many choices on a moment to moment basis. How much energy is squandered on wishing it were other than what it is?

    Liked by 1 person

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