Man of the future, the free man

Man of future, the free man

On one freezing November night
It was raining
A rain of knowledge, truth and belief
Falling down from the sky
All over the earth
In each round raindrop
There was a worldview
A way to see
To hear
To know & to conclude.
All the sky
Creating truth
And pushing it down
But earth was filled
With empty minds
And so to protect
Their fragility
Each of human
Was carrying umbrella
An umbrella of
Their own
Either ism or religion
Or the concrete point
Or a dear belief
They were recognized
Through the umbrella
They were carrying
And so and so,
They became it
Humans became
Their umbrellas
Their beliefs shaped
Their selves and  identity
Either social or personal
Driven by someone's thought
Either by an old preacher
Or maybe by a strange scientist
A mad philosopher's trending philosophy
The collective truth
Under the monarch
Limited to surety
So the truth didn't reach them
Then there was
A person who
Belonged to the future
He was bathing
In the rain
Dancing among the drops
All naked
Exposed to it
Neither negating
Nor accepting
He was enjoying
Each truth, each misery
Beauty of all
Though it was
A cold rain
On a winter night
Breezes tore him apart
From the ribs
But his heart
His heart was bursting with joy
Cause he was the only one
Who knew
That he could sing the song of his own
And how each raindrop
Felt like
Not only by the look
Not by theory
But by the experience of his own
He became the rain
By being aware
By being conscious
Of its existence
Like that of his own
And the shattering winds
Though loud and fast
It decided his paths
The next road to be taken
With each blow
He went with that
To the home
Of the wind
But the wind's homeless !
And so will be the man
You know it, right ?
In every second he felt
As if he was
Everything combined
Or maybe he was
Nothing at all
Man finally became
the writer of his story
A wet among dries
A drop on drought
Soaked in reality
Of no certainty
He is flowing in time
With the pouring rain
Though he was tired
He didn't stop
His journey to truth
For maybe a thousand years
Or maybe an infinite eternity
Neither will we stop.
Nor the rain.
It doesn't matter
Whether it is
Past present or the future
Because a man shall always remain
A passenger
A passenger on the road to reality
A man in search
A man in search of the truth !.




Farblos Artem
05-11-2022