Supernatural Spirit

Striding up the Nietzche path to Eze, I tend to inquire the spirit. What else?

Answers pour out from the stones I pass and cross

The shades of trees oxygenate my brain

Thoughts mingle and flow, emotions growl

A dog barks wild, there is no house to find, reason herds in fear

Pouncing my heart wild, numbing my love and awe of life

Beauty lost lustre, birds their voice, all fogged in my mind

Being a human, I must survive for I am one of a kind

Thinking inserts reason back into my fear

What have I done to my heart to beat so near my skin?

Is that dog controlling me?

I give up as fast as I speak, to myself of course

For in solitude one has plenty of time to preoccupy the mind with thoughts

Nature has answers, and most wise men seek them out there in her fertile womb

The sages use stillness as their tool, attracting insight into plain thoughts

That clarity can only be found in patience and curiosity

My mind hopes – in vain or just being a fool – will my soul lead me to eternal salvation?

Can I purify myself so I can follow its lead towards the heaven’s door?

Empty fullness, perhaps is what I seek

To merge with opposites I defy Earthly laws, God’s creeds

~ Joy

hiking Cote d'Azur

The slippery rocky Nietzsche trail to Eze Village on Coe d’Azur

~ For now a poem satisfies my spirit’s needs and questions — busying the mind with lightness I seek, and often find in nature laid in plain air ~

after rain hope in the sky

FULL EMPTINESS OF HOPE

We call emptiness dull, yet its potential is yet to become full

Vast ocean, a mirage of blue, a vessel of life hiding, but true

Only once we named what is deep under the azure sheet

Like with psyche, we thought it just a spirit’s quip

Unless we dare to dive in for the filling, yet empty soul

The clock unwound, an answering machine accepts your call

Perhaps God knows more, while hope and space cue behind

Our desires and ephemeral needs fill the Eden with weeds

Unlimited is only hope, the future holding on its rope

~ Joy

The foggy perception of Western thought and reason on hope is best illustrated through poetry. Reasoning about this psychological aid in adversity will not fully capture its entire purpose. Why do we humans need and employ hope?

My favorite poem of the late American poetess Emily Dickinson, starts with this wonderful line:

Hope is that thing with feathers…

But I love it all

That perches in the soul.

And sings the tune without words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

 

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

This is one of the most famous poems of this solitary lady who published very little during her lifetime. It was her sister collecting the scraps of paper and letter envelopes inscribed with her precious poetry, to publish them posthumously. There is something nostalgic about the future-aimed hope. Its effect belongs to the present moment when hope alleviates pain present in one’s spirit or any bodily suffering. It is like a placebo that heals our present melancholy or sadness through a timeline of the past-present-future string of hope.