Whatever happens, happens for good...
A city happens, history happens,
Leaves and flowers happen.
The inebriated earth holds all happenings,
as it were, on a stage in display.
If you bump into a tree
they will call you blind, for,
blindness too happens like death
like the noontide in the black sea.
What is freedom then?
Is it another happening in this
world stage of eternal becoming?
Do I have no choice in anything?
Have I too happened without the freewill of my Maker?
Is there nothing, that wills to manifest like Nietzsche’s superman?
Sin and merit have no destiny
Love and death have no destiny
Why then the lily blooms when moon rises?
Is it an involuntary sneeze of nature that creates and destroys
without purpose and goal?
Even questions do happen
Answers like eureka happen as accidents and freaks,
Love and death are freaks,
Poetry, philosophy, discoveries Inventions and Mars landing
All are simply happenings, moving uncontrollably
in their own orbits.
Truth, beauty, love and separation,
in the same chain of being,
move ephemerally towards the end of time
for regeneration of new happenings.
I merely watch, wait and whimper
in my endless agony of love, to give all
that happens to me in my limited time frame.
Well, that’s all I can throw into my life’s empty zone.
Copyright © 2017 by Oliva Rath. All rights
reserved. This material cannot be copied and reproduced in any form without
permission.
