The Nature of True Intent

THE NATURE OF TRUE INTENT

Under the shroud of darkness,
Moments before the breaking of the dawn,
The kookaburras are laughing,
At the koalas that sleep all day.

Life can be a sleepy hollow,
Where the patterns of a billion years,
Settle into a routine that has never been broken,
For life is one harmonious song,
Singing from dawn to dusk,
But this becomes difficult to hear,
When shrouded by technology,
A protective synthetic coating,
That conceals humanity from itself,
Within competing styles and mod cons,
Seeking to redesign
Our true nature,
Does it ensure natural selection?

Yet love is a wild card,
For the one living by discipline,
As love always desires to break free
From constraint,
To laugh until dawn,
To sleep until midnight,
For the wise owl sits quietly watching,
Sharp yet alert,
For night is the best time,
For inner reflection.

The design is by pattern making,
And the pattern is the question mark,
That begs the question
What patterns promote health and wellbeing?
What patterns exhaust and expire?
What room is there for spontaneity?
To take a risk?
To leap off a cliff?
Just to explore,
The other side.

The world has become clockwork orange,
Watching time,
Clocking on,
Clocking off,
My time your time,
Yet time is universal and available to all,
For to become a system is not natural,
As nature is a web of cooperation,
That arises instinctively,
As there is no force,
There is no coercion,

For each observes their natural environment,
And learns how it works,
How to live in an interchange of relationships,
A cycle of life,
That recycles life,
Responding to subtle signals,
Encoded in change,
Sensitive to light,
Not dissimilar to traffic lights,
Signalling communication not control,
For each depends on the other,
For survival.

We were once a human tribe,
Where all members belonged,
Where love was the familial bonds,
For the foundation of community is to work together,
For the greater good,
Yet many live like they are alone,
As fear becomes the conductor on the train,
As each averts their eyes from the other,
But why not smile when you see,
Why not remember that we are free,
That we have been herded into patterns not of our own making,
Yet the only way to break free is to change the pattern and look back,
For discipline is the master that forces one into unnatural patterns by force,
To fight natures urge,
Is why we are still fighting.

Love is the free mason unencumbered by ritual,
Who returns to carve their own tomb-stone,
For mythical symbols are simply metaphors,
Evoking gateways to illuminate the spiritual path,
For this can never be seen as a super highway,
It is the side track of life that is unfamiliar and unknown,
For when one takes this new track,
They find themselves lost in a real world,
That challenges the notion of true freedom.

For you are now the creator of the path,
You must decide which fork in the road,
You must believe you can survive without addictions,
You must see shadows as shade,
And darkness as the moon obscuring the sun,
And the stranger becomes a friend in waiting,
For when one lives a natural life,
There is no need for deception or conceit,
For a natural system gives spontaneously without exception.