*I overlooked this prose for years because it is dark, however it is truly existential. I have often thought that one would not get out of bed lest to stoke the fire that had gone out. We only do things because we must.
Pause to consider eternal life.
Each day, if that is the measure, nothing need be done.
One will not die for crops not sown.
Nor hunger filled for crops not grown
The rain will not drench by the house not built.
And, babes will not cry for a mother’s milk.
Consider a dreamer with desire to paint.
Eternal time is no constraint.
Ponder the dream for days and days.
For the canvas shines so many ways.
Whether I paint with color or passion,
I have no concern for the modern fashion.
Thus, I wait for another day,
to see what dreams may come my way.
And thus, nothing is done except ponder.
Now, does even pondering have times constraint?
What if I ponder for days and days that turn into
years and years or millennia upon millennia?
So, what is the measure of time and what needs must be accomplished?
How must I perform and most paramount is it I that must do?
Now wrap yourself up in comfort, oh ye of labor, for you have done conscience bidding. It has been thrust upon you in a manner of teaching, though it was not your request. You were born from oblivion as the quintessential guest.
And I dream to be free from sowing crops and building with thatch
to prevent the rain from coming in for there is time to paint my painting of a song sung with refrain.
Would you do anything unless you must? Thus, death gives you necessity.
Necessity to work with in your day and finish what must be done before you die.
Now if you are an immortal soul you will understand the necessity of time verses timelessness.
The differential of having and not having makes your life expedient and yet only patience will see it through for if all things happen in zero time then nothing would be.
This dichotomy like death is essential.