247. Mortal accuracy
We are not bound in slavery
To mortal accuracy.
Not when it is the playing field
Of immortal contemplation,
Is where you and I meet,
Talk and play!
Not when our day is worth
The orbit of a thousand years
Around our Sun.
A day equaling a million days,
A second equaling to a millionth part of an eternity.
Accuracies are for archers and apples
Balanced on mortal heads.
And our apples and heads?
We lost our heads long ago already…
I wouldn't like to be William Tell's son. If we lose our heads while looking for God, at least it was for a worthwhile activity. And anyway, our heads, torsos and limbs... they are only on loan and happily, one day God shall say, "Okay, Taufiq! Your time's up!", and we shall all have to discard our mortal skin, and return it to the soil from whence it came.
And what garment shall we be clothed in the hereafter? Well, I cannot tell you. Because I don't know the answer to that (yet).
I think it is good to leave some queries unresolved. It makes life interesting, yes?
Have a blessed Thursday, sunshine.