Reverence and Toil

Man toiled for a world of bricks, stones and steel and is still toiling for the latest versions of gadgets. Man thumbs up technological advances of electromagnetic waves. He fills himself up with caffeine, smoke and fermented grapes or wheat. But, he actually sold to his peers what he loaned from nature and became self- proclaimed master of riches and named it ‘money’ The circus of owning and shopping- bringing a piece of Earth in another form. Is it that we forgotten the source and conscious is crawling in ways to reach nature.

Another man pray to them. He uses with care. He revers the nature but he believes not in his own toil. His breath are not for worldly games. He wakes and sleep with rocks as treasures to his bedside. He prays for to allievate the consciousness of race. He doesn’t indulge in pleasures of barters. He is rich inside but to most he’s poor.

The scales are unbalanced – we are craving for plants in soul, in our mouths and our homes. Every expansion is an extension of Earth and yet the man made world looks like an alien civilisation.

Garden, rivers, plants, bees, birds and animals in spite of doors, clothes, brick, carpets, television, cars. Developmental advances or insanity and conversions to robot. What is really the norm?

We were meant to balance our Reverence and Toil. We still seek to know where we came from and we yearn. Before, all meaning turns meaningless seek the source. We all will return to it.

3 thoughts on “Reverence and Toil

  1. Nice post!! Good morning!!

    Ris Howie

    Reverence-See

    I feel, without the findings feel of those hidden-hands, which I cannot see,
    The warmth-waking-wishing potency of crawling down-
    wards from a state of reverence-see
    Seeing! with those eyes of heart; the beauty love of a God of eternity.
    I don’t wonder of it: knowing not to know is the
    Devotion, a given test of my ability to look and see past visibility
    My faith: built, as bones in me, to accept unconditional Truth from thee.
    Trying hoping, I love, without alterations finds, true to Your methodology,
    Crosses across’d the paths, which He wind Walked,
    Speaking to the storied ancients of those miracles-measured
    I yet didn’t live to see, but take on faith-
    and a measure of reverence-see in the wanting of inspiring a little You in Me.

    Liked by 1 person

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