Yugen

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 Yugen


A pair of Barn Owls wheel and skrike in a wraithlike reel.
Their ghostly bodies soar and dive as twighlight heralds days decline.
At it's zenith, star speckled midnight blue softens into amethyst.
Amethyst pales into robust lilacs as the boiling sky reaches for the horizon.
Lilacs flux and smelt onto the burnt orange of the gloriously perishing Sun.

As the World works through its joy and wretchedness, in each of its rotations.
The people pray and dream and laugh and cry, craving love and fearing death.
Seeing the Universe in all its fairness and lack of fairness.
They await inevitable entropy and definite demise.
They sigh.

What deity in his omniscient affection would bestow upon me such an ability.
To perceive simultaneously the breathtaking splendour and the aching pointlessness.
There is no revelation here, no karma, no absolution.
There is no Yin and Yang here my friend, just pure beauty in all its unfathomability.
It is burdensome and i am tired.

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