CHANGE

Change- a single, immobile word that conveys momentum, motion, rush against time or flowing with the tide.
Change- dynamism and growth or regression and devolution.
Change- Either you fight against it and suffer stagnation or you dare to let it happen and risk the implications.
The universe is in a state of constant motion, the galaxies dance to the rhythm of time and space, the moon waxes during particular phases, the wind and water carves, sculpts and polishes the landscape into visual wonders, the tiny seed germinates prompted by the life force into a strong, green tree and at the centre, the focus of everything lies MAN- the being.
The man changes, too.
Within the man is a force, a power to change and bring about changes.
To suppress it, is to let the well spring of life die. Or is it? The word ‘death’ is subjective.
Change constitutes life. But human life is a mockery of evolution.
I have changed. And my eyes take in the changes change brings with a growing wonder, curiosity and apprehension.
Every new day and situation is an eye-opener, an experience. Vulnerability and youth giving way to toughness and tenacity, even bordering on aggressive obstinacy. Pure innocence replaced by an awareness of human failures and foibles. Childish contentment turning to resignation and cynicism. Trust and goodness tainted by skepticism and doubts. Love relegated to lust.
Am I a pessimist? I don’t know. Whatever is pure, good, worthy of value seem to have deteriorated into an object of wile, hypocrisy and debasement.
Ideals? Trash! Principles? Hah! Morality? Old fashioned!
I don’t want to cry.
I am forced to.
I am changing. My world is changing.
What dark powers lurk within and about me? What unseen shadows?
Inner battles, tempestuous! Stormy waters beneath the calm surface!
I grieve. Is this what I was destined for? Is this what I prayed for?
Change that stunts me is death. I can’t grow, am not growing.
The life force within me is drying up. Every day I suffer. A slow death.
Excruciating pain. I choke. I suffocate. I gasp for breath.
Had I known I would die when I strove to live, I would not change.
But the process carries me, swiftly in its currents, the eddies swirl around me. I am thrown into the back lash of white waters, helpless. The rapids engulf me, my soul is consumed.
Is there a glimmer of hope? The light is wane but it flickers in the distance.
I have to get there. I have to feel the warmth spread through my numb, entreating fingers into my frozen being. My heart is cold within me, trembling and fearful but there must be a sign of life somewhere- the sole goal of my pursuit.
When I reach there some day, when I can feel change within me without it tearing me apart, or causing me to question the authenticity of my identity and existence, I will listen to the cosmic language that pervades everything and everyone, smile and cease shedding tears that mourn life and death evoked by the universal music of change.