IMAGINATION

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They were not decorations on our wall
We were shadows on theirs
Flickering like candle thoughts
Gathering, falling and dispersing
Like broods of clouds
When we stand across the divide
Looking at each other, it’s hard to tell
Who is real
And who is the figment of whose imagination.

Writer, did you write your book
Or did your book write you?
Artist, did you paint that look
In the eye of the portrait watching you
Or are you just a thought in its mind?
If you look, sometimes you will find
That the musician is the instrument
And the song is the conductor of his movement.

And when an architect erects a building
He is only doing so to house therein his restless feelings.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

LOUD

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Blessed are the silent
For they shall hear it first…

Blessed are the silent
For they shall hear it first.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

LOOK DEEPER

We are so strongly influenced
By the form of what we see
That we lose sight of a sense
Of what its true content could be

Who would ever guess
That in a cocoon sleeps a butterfly
Or that the greatest devil of all
Looks like an angel in the sky?

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

I CARRY WITH ME ONLY A POUCH OF HOPE

I carry with me only a pouch of hope
A flinch of salt for my daily bread
My shadows falter; my wings, they grope
For space, where seekers dread to tread

My sandals are poised to strike the sand
A grain of pain is universe
But when I prise open deep my hand
The lines of blessing write off any curse

In leaps and bounds my mountains guide me
When the moon is barking, my shadows hide me
Pauselessly, hard, intuitions ride me.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

SENSE OF TASTE

There is no easy way
To walk through every valley
Without tasting any fruit
Without tasting any fruit

Propensity plays a gentle lute
Curiousity owns a magic flute
Temptation gnaws at your root
Intuition is loud, intuition is mute.

Who can know without taking a bite?
Who can grow without experiencing the night?
Some nights will yield the day
Some nights will kill the day

When does a want become a need?
When does a hunger morph into greed?
Is a sin a fruit or a seed?
A thought is sometimes worse than a deed.

There is a green hill far away
Your feet are confused: to go or to stay?
Who can walk through the valley of the root
Without tasting any fruit?

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

BITTER BREAD

When they seek bread
You hesitate to speak
Of the bread of life

For they look you in the eye
And say
Can’t you see that I’m hungry?

How can you make
The spirit strong
When the body is still so weak?

And so you fall silent
And wait with the rest,
For the rest, in peace…

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

RIDE OUT

The way is “how”
Even more than “what”
Even more than “where”

“What” without “how”
Is religion, is dogma
Will chain the spirit

“Where” instead of “how”
Will never lead to
The answer of “why”

For it is the doing
By oneself that yields alone
The personal Understanding of “How”

Just do to me that thing
That makes my spirit light
And, deep in me, I’ll understand
The way

Who needs teachers
When we’ve got horses?
Just teach me how to ride
Or I’ll learn it myself

Then we’ll ride out together
And see for ourselves
What the world has to offer to
Seekers and lovers.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

LOOK AGAIN

And then you will see
That blind people see
The things that are invisible
To you and to me

And then you will hear
What the deaf loudly hear
When silence is all
That you and I hear

And then you will understand
That children understand
To store deep in their memory
Things they don’t yet understand

When a moment full of pain
Opens up your heart again
And you learn to look again
And see again, and hear again.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

SURROGATE MOTHER EARTH AND HER STRANGE CHILDREN OF JOY

Everything about the earth’s geological history and trend suggests the disconcerting and alienating thought that human beings were not intended to exist on it for a long time – speaking in terms of geological time. It seems we are a species, the conditions favourable for whose biological existence would, like a thin strip on the broad spectrum of earth time, be laboriously reached after billions of years of evolution, tenderly maintained for several millions of years (very short compared to the past and future age of the earth), and then gradually evolved away from again. The earth will then plunge further in its cycle into more advanced states of instability or stability, which ever way you want to view it, eventually drastically altering the delicate balance of elementary interplay that once sustained higher animal and, above all, human life upon its surface. Mother Earth, it seems, like all mothers, after bearing and rearing her children, will one day tire of them and expel them from her home.

Whereas the earth is over 4,600 million years old, the first hominids appeared just 4 to 6 million years ago, while human beings as we know them today came on the scene only about 200,000 years ago. It took 1,600 million years for the first cyanobacteria (capable of photosynthesis, thus producing oxygen) to evolve, and after that it took another almost 3,000 million years before humans arrived, and many dramatic things happened along the way. This reminds me of an analogy I once read somewhere: that if the age of the earth up until now were a ninety kilometre long motorway, humans only appear somewhere in the last few meters at the end of the final, the ninetieth, kilometre. Quite awe-inspiring to me. It however does not end there. It keeps moving forward. Discontinuing the influence of human technology, which largely – at least in the short term – seems to be putting more pressure on the earth, the natural geological changes in the earth and solar system will, within many thousands of millions of years in the future, yield an environment poor in exactly those elements and conditions that once called forth biological life. Quite simply, even if in the future the earth is spared every possible kind of accident and trauma that ever befell it in the past, which is highly unlikely, yet the earth will still eventually age. The sun too will dramatically change and become very unfriendly. It seems quite unlikely that the human race will not become extinct some day, at least on earth.

Some say this is where science fiction comes into this motion picture. According to them, science fiction of today is science fact of tomorrow. Man, the technological being, will become master over the laws of nature. Time travel will become possible. The quick traversing of large distances that normally would cover light-years will be achieved. New sources of energy, new methods of making use of energy, would have been developed. New planets colonised. A new super race of galactic humans would have been bioengineered. And all the rest of that flight of fancy. Well, it’s hard to dispute something that has not yet happened. But so far all we seem to do is put ourselves in danger and expose just how vulnerable the human species is. So, as an aside, let’s just hope the bees don’t go extinct. And yet this dogged belief in technology’s ability to secure us a future is understandable, because… what’s the alternative? – eventual Extinction someday?… Really? Extinction?… It’s a thought that’s just inacceptable to the human mind, that the human mind will one day be no more, disappeared with the human being. Because it just does not make any sense: What on earth was the rationale behind the brief physical existence of this species – Human? What was the point? To grow and to know, only in order to forget and to die? The entire species – without being able to pass all that knowledge on to… someone… anyone. Why?

Well, what about passing it on to, retaining and using it, ourselves – somewhere, somehow? What if Mother Earth is not really our mother? Only our surrogate mother? Our temporary womb.

This is the point, I must admit, at which some times my thoughts turn to that little elusive thing called Spirit. That thing of which they say that it originates in a place, in a state, in a consistency, that floats above every measurable concept of time and space, that existed before and will continue to exist after every earth has had its day. They say it, Spirit, coming from there, is eternal and that it alone is in truth the true human being. I have read that it incarnates and reincarnates time and again, seeking maturity. I have read, have heard, have even sensed, that it speaks the language of intuition and will always be incomprehensible to the intellect, and yet will always continue to silently argue with it. Because, if the earth is my mother, who is my father? I know I can’t prove anything to anybody, not even to myself, yet for sure the earth will meet its end one day, and yet there is in me something that will live on, somewhere, somehow, consciously. Eternally and forever. And I call it Conscious Knowing Joy.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

EXCEPT YE AS LITTLE CHILDREN BE

Children are united
By childhood
Adults divided
By their adulthood

Too smart is the mind
That sees division
The spirit is inclined
To strive for union.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.