When it comes to being spiritual

The feeling is not always mutual

As our belief systems can be different

Who is subscribing to what

May not always be so apparent.

 

The search for meaning and purpose

Forces human mind to embrace or to dispose

Of many different possibilities.

Then some may devote

Themselves to promote

Ways of finding accessibility

To the ideas they find appealing,

Satisfaction peace and tranquility

May be the ultimate feeling.

 

A designer or a creator

For this universe the grand theater

Exists

At least

In the minds of many,

While others may find this

To be an absolute tyranny.

 

Such existence

Whether real or unreal

May be important to some

But to others may not be at all.

 

Makes me wonder

As I deal with

These kinds of internal thunder –

The existence of life and the order in the universe

Do these require some kind of design?

Or some attempt to rehearse?

 

Had there been no rules

And all there was

Nothing but chaos

May be from the idea of some design

It would be much easier to resign.

 

But thinking differently

Some have also proposed consistently

That the universe is its own driver,

And no grand or supreme creator

Is needed to describe its behavior.

 

They try to discover

The underlying rules

Which they think they are able to uncover

With their carefully designed tools.

How or why these rules were created

They don’t think it really is important or needed.

While trying to ask such questions

They think people may have been cheated.

Thus any kind of divine existence,

In their own minds,

They have successfully defeated.

 

Seems to me

That each group

May tend to revolve around

Its own created loop,

Could be written in stone or could be proverbial

Could be lacking solid ground or could be substantial.

 

The real revelation

We may or may not have missed

Despite all our struggles,

As our minds get boggled,

After all our deceptive or sincere intentions

And despite all our fascinations and frustrations,

All our aggregations and congregations,

Have we failed to see the instructions?

The true picture from our sight

Has it been smuggled?

By

Kris Mojag

Written somewhere in California in the middle of a quiet night, after having a very long and hectic day, in September of 2021