My Silent Cry
I am aggrieved, despairing and crippled.
I am like a ghost in a scene. I can see all that is happening, and is going to happen, but there is nothing I can do about it.
I want to shout and scream, or just to say a quiet word, to whisper into his ears. But try as I might, hard as I exert, as forcibly as I will, no utterance can be made. I open my mouth, and it is all silence. And I am overcome in despair and anguish to know that he cannot hear anything.
I grab at him, but my desperate flailing arms just go right past him, as if he does not exist, and he feels nothing, totally unaware and oblivious to my presence and my grief.
I want him to know that I love him. I want to feel his hands, that he may be comforted and feel loved by touch. I want to persuade him that life is not just looking after physical needs, of food and drink and sex, and even more so, not to be addicted or enslaved by such, but that life is about becoming the person that you are destined to be, and that is what true joy and fulfillment, and ultimately life itself is all about.
But alas I am a mere spectator to a man walking into corruption and destruction.
I am like Ulysses tied and bound to the post, yearning and crying to go to where the Sirens are singing, but utterly futile and impotent are my cries, my curses, my pleas, or my exertions.
I see a man walking towards the abyss and there is nothing I can do to tell him whats ahead, nor do anything to cause him to pause to think, to look, or to change his mind, and to turn around.
I see a beautiful and pure crystal vessel, made to hold the greatest light, falling to the ground, to be surely shattered and destroyed, and all I can do is watch, not being able even to cry for help or utter a warning.
And I cannot hear him too. I can see every action, even read his mind, but I cannot hear a word he utter.
And so in my silent intangible world, strive and agonise and will as I may, I am yet totally detached and inconsequential from his world, being trapped and crippled in the nether world of my own.
All I can do is to cry out to God in my silent unutterable incoherent cry.
I am like a ghost in a scene. I can see all that is happening, and is going to happen, but there is nothing I can do about it.
I want to shout and scream, or just to say a quiet word, to whisper into his ears. But try as I might, hard as I exert, as forcibly as I will, no utterance can be made. I open my mouth, and it is all silence. And I am overcome in despair and anguish to know that he cannot hear anything.
I grab at him, but my desperate flailing arms just go right past him, as if he does not exist, and he feels nothing, totally unaware and oblivious to my presence and my grief.
I want him to know that I love him. I want to feel his hands, that he may be comforted and feel loved by touch. I want to persuade him that life is not just looking after physical needs, of food and drink and sex, and even more so, not to be addicted or enslaved by such, but that life is about becoming the person that you are destined to be, and that is what true joy and fulfillment, and ultimately life itself is all about.
But alas I am a mere spectator to a man walking into corruption and destruction.
I am like Ulysses tied and bound to the post, yearning and crying to go to where the Sirens are singing, but utterly futile and impotent are my cries, my curses, my pleas, or my exertions.
I see a man walking towards the abyss and there is nothing I can do to tell him whats ahead, nor do anything to cause him to pause to think, to look, or to change his mind, and to turn around.
I see a beautiful and pure crystal vessel, made to hold the greatest light, falling to the ground, to be surely shattered and destroyed, and all I can do is watch, not being able even to cry for help or utter a warning.
And I cannot hear him too. I can see every action, even read his mind, but I cannot hear a word he utter.
And so in my silent intangible world, strive and agonise and will as I may, I am yet totally detached and inconsequential from his world, being trapped and crippled in the nether world of my own.
All I can do is to cry out to God in my silent unutterable incoherent cry.
"Is not Ephraim my dear son,
the child in whom I delight?
Though I often speak against him,
I still remember him.
Therefore my heart yearns for him;
I have great compassion for him,"
declares the LORD.
[Jer 31:20]
posted by Espion at 5:44 pm
1 comments
