The Mind of Man

There was a time
Many moons ago
When a small furry beast
With two arms and two legs
Five digits on both
Came to walk upright

They don’t know when
And truthfully they don’t know why
But when they did
Something strange happened

The great weapon of this beast
Became yes his hands and his feet
But his Mind as well

And they banded together in small groups
They hunted and they gathered
Small fruits and vegetables
Built food and shelter
From the monsters of the night
And the storms of the gods

They learned how to cultivate
The land and rivers around them
And slowly but surely
They began to make and shape tools
Domesticate various creatures
For companionship and assistance
And hunt for game to feed their people

And with this development
No doubt hand in hand
Their minds began to grow

And they envisioned different ways
With this powerful tool of theirs
Not only how the world around them
Could be warped and used
For their own good and survival
But also this need to socialize and work together
Created the need to communicate

And so language was born
And the mind and the tongue
Became the great weapons of man
The sword and the shield
To protect the tribe and raise the young

And allowed them to survive and thrive
In so many places all throughout the globe
To the point now where there is almost
No room for any other
And the Earth herself
Groans with overuse and overheating

But something strange happened
As Darwin’s laws took hold
Language and abstract thought
Which were so key to the development of tools
And various strategies for survival
Were usurped as well
By the shamans and the priests
Of these ancient ruling bands

And with the help of the soma juice
And various other intoxicants no doubt
A state of communion was tapped into
And religion was born
And grew alongside civilization
Hand in hand as it were
Not two but one
Mutually dependent and mutually necessary

And so it would have it
That the very same developments
That were needed for us to survive
Became the foundations of abstract thought
To which there is but one and only one end

The Good, the Best, the One
The Creator of wind and fire and storm
The Creator of the Creator of all of these
Mysterious natural forces
To which ancient man had to supplicate
To survive and to thrive

All these thoughts
In their most high and abstract Form
Lead to the very same question
The very same answer
That any thinking being
Any true pure mind
Capable of abstract thought
Must conclude in the quietest of quiet moments
When stillness is felt
In one’s whole being
In the midst of chaos

And so theology and religion were created
Right alongside mankind itself
And while there were hunters and gatherers
There were rulers and priests and shamans too
And this became the bedrock of the small societies
That in the end were to take over the world

The question arises however
That the end of this thinking
The answer to all of the natural wonders
That these shamans divined
When they foretold the future
And advised the kings and rulers
What is it that they tapped into?
How was it that they tapped into it?

The great temples were built
Great sacrifices were made
Incense was burnt
Wine and oblations were given
And in these ceremonies
It was said that the communion with the gods
Was not only possible but actual

And who is to say
That these things were untrue?
The great scientists of today?
Who break everything down
To the minutest of particles
And claim that because we know just how it all began
(Even though even this also must have had a beginning)
That therefore there is no need for a Creator
And he is a myth of our own creation
Stemming from ignorance rather than Knowledge

But this communion, this mystic experience
Which is spoken of in virtually every culture
In every corner of the world
From the deepest of records of mankind that we have
Out of which the great myths and stories
Of the heroes and gods
From which mankind was born
The archetypes of the psyche
That came form these great minds
That were weaved into great stories of old

The creation of the world itself
From the great waters of Apsu
And the story as well
Of its immanent destruction
And the world beyond this one
Where all souls must go upon death

Who is to say
Whether they are truths are falsehoods?
Does it not depend upon
The perspective, the view?
The vantage point as it were

For no doubt the physical world around us
Must indeed exist
Our scientists have proven it so
Over and over again

But this world of the mind
This world of the spirit
Is this not real as well?
In our dreams when the ghosts are upon us
When the angles lead us to the light
Is this not real as well?

Who are we to say?
Embodied as we are
In these physical structures
Built to survive
But at the same time
Given the gift of thought itself

And in the highest of the high
The most abstract of the abstract
We must admit to ourselves
That where there is a beginning there is an end
And something cannot come from nothing

And as the earth makes its way around the sun
One more year, one more age
In this vast galaxy of ours
But one in a million such galaxies
In the vast universe of universes
With billions of stars
And all the planets that circumnavigate them
Uncountable as such
In their endless dance

One can only contemplate
In solemn silence
At the grand mystery of it all
And our small place in it

And yet granted by some strange blessing
Which also perhaps might be a curse
To contemplate it all in its glory
With this mind of ours
How we got here
And what the purpose of it all is

And what kind of cosmic joke it must be
That we were given the ability
To ponder such things
Whilst answers elude us
And time marches on
And our own evolution
Leads inevitably to our own destruction



Categories: Poetry

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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