when god maps out the topography of our lives does he use a pencil or a pen? do the mountains look brown and the valleys green? do the passing clouds shadow our experiences enough to cool our busy lives or do they flood our reality with sorrow? it appears as if the plate tectonics of our world tear through our comfortable existences just enough to remind us that we are nothing but dust. but is that all we are? just dust upon the map of certainty? does this dust gather in corners to create dirt clumps that get swept up by the cosmic broom? or does this dust become some replica of something we're meant to be?
as shadows of the divine, do we acquire just to acquire? why have we desecrated the hills where we once gazed upwards at the fireflies resting upon the waters of the universe? and why have we taken his springs and dug our own broken cisterns? why have we polluted his air to advance our dreams? are they our dreams? or are they dreams of a dreamer who wants nothing more than to see this map torn to pieces? as we stand on the brink of insanity, we must ask ourselves, "can this map be repaired?"
posted by jon havens
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