Something Like a Poem, by Kristin M. Ferrell

Let us talk about Nature

What it is and isn't

What it pretends to be and what it can never be

Nature can be good

Can point us to things which are true

We survive by it

Survival is one thing

Existence is a precursor to better things, and worse

Like delight

Like despair

Yet, truth be told, Nature only goes so far

If we only did the natural thing,

We'd get ourselves into all sorts of trouble

And we'd keep ourselves out of things we'd very much hate to miss

Though, how would we ever know it, if we should never get there?

We'd mate with barbarous oafs because they are strongest

We'd eat too much or not enough

We'd always mow the other man down

But there are finer things

Things Nature knows nothing about

It speaks in a different tongue

It is exquisite and so rare only a fair few know it

It is made of something strong, like diamonds

But they are quite small diamonds

It is composed of minerals like honesty, charity, love unfeigned

It thrives on the purest intelligence, unmuddied by suspicion, guile, lust, or vanity

When the whole world operates in illusion

It becomes so arduous to recognize truth from error

But once your ear attunes to the chords of things everlasting

Once you get your verbs and nouns all straightened out in the new language

You understand

A whole world unfolds

It seems to burst wide before you!

It's much more grand and graceful than your old world

You used to think the best things were made of earth

Turns out they were made of things you'd never envisioned, things without names,

Colors you had never known

And how can such things be described?

I'm afraid we have no hope of that.

It can only be realized through experience.

Like singing an aria to a little baby

She may like it

But she doesn't understand

It will take her many years to understand the words

And then the notes

And last her feelings about those words and notes together

Nature is quite a thing, THE thing in fact

When it comes to life on earth

Survival

Being of this world

And this world only

But there is a better

And should we glimpse it, even for the briefest breath of a moment's time

We would never forget

And we would long for it unceasingly

Operating in illusion is tempting

Being natural takes very little courage and even less strength

But I cannot deny

I am made of something finer

Something the best microscopes will always miss

I am made for a better world, the place we've always missed and ached for

The place we must be conditioned to arrive

The place we would never be able to see without this conditioning, without submission

To an exquisite sort of pain, paying a very high price, but gaining all in the end

Nature will condition me for life on earth

I am grateful

I am

But…

Humility will condition me for a celestial life

I am profoundly grateful for that

I am

Oh how I am