Soil

SOIL


Soiled my hands have become as I do tend to the matters of the heart.  Matters in which we for strength and pride disregard for reasons of the fear to outwardly embark a journey that leads into an ordinary world requiring a passion of simple kindness and humility. So many things thrown out the window and evacuated for the sake of vanity. Later, we cry out asking, where have all ours friends gone and why have they abandoned us for the pursuit of pleasures and material gains?
Soiled have my hands become as I uproot empty tin treasure chests to find that all the most important things in life that mattered the most were sold in the markets of greed, discontent, malice and vanity. I find that in the matters of the heart we exchange the most precious values we hold dearest to our souls for empty promises to other souls who have too spent their self worth and self respect in exchange for recognition, conformation and respect. The very things we as humanity once held dearest while we were innocent and pure are the values and treasures we seek in the world and in others around us. I find that in the soil there are many seeds placed discretely and uniformly apart from each other as if the gardener intentionally wished for a good harvest. However, this faithless gardener constantly returned and dug up his seeds to check on their progress unknowing to him that he was depriving them from the opportunities of growing and absorbing from a fertile life. What precious and glorious things we forsake and then ask why we have forsaken in exchange for a promise that will in hope redeem an elusive and dishonest humanity. What fears we have are shames of all types that reveal us to a world that scorns and is full of judgment. The only redemption for most is the hopes that an Angel or Falcon comes to snatch them up from the chaotic frenzy they believe and accept to be a real world.

I search and my hands are soiled with prayers and filled with good intentions that cry out for forgiveness and redemption. I try to shake off the deceit from my hands but they are like oil residues clinging, pulling and mixing yesterdays past memories to form a paste or mud like substance that is used as a cloak of conviction and unforgiving guilt. This toxic residue in the hearts of humanity is like a virus that replicates itself to transform into other ideas leaving its host abandoned to feel lost in an intergalactic space of unworthiness. We as beings in this time and place do by social nature disregard the simple virtues and attributes of kindness and humbleness for the exchange of bright lights, bright treasures, physical pleasures, enticing words of false promises, confiding in betraying friends, and abandoning ones self worth. I soil my hands with the truth that we as humanity do take pleasure in relinquishing all that is good while we were children for what we believe to be just a phase of maturity. And as we enter into adulthood we therefore take on the roles of said mature beings while abandoning the child in us that has never truly said hello or goodbye.





What good is a treasure if the one who finds it can't determine whether it has value worth keeping? And what good is a treasure if when found it has been quickly spent leaving everyone poor and desolate? We for the same have abandoned our hearts and for the fear to search and embarrassment of public scrutiny we deny it has ever been lost. However, we always search for our lost hearts in places and in people who will scrutinize, judge and make mockery of our sincere feelings and hopes.

The search of Inner Love is the most difficult journey and challenge a human being will ever face. This search requires that the person reinvent ones self so to gain a citizenship for re entry into ones own personal soul. Otherwise, the gate will remain closed and access will be eternally denied. Love is such a simple thing to lose and soil quickly that we barely take notice when it’s gone or no longer is within our midsts. The journey that builds ones own strength and self worth eventually reveals the path a person must follow to find the tin treasure chests and fill the voids that are hollow. I soil my hands for the search of inner love and return to myself a long lost friend.