The Greatest Journey

THE THESIS OF IRONY

by rado gatchalian

inhale

no more – fix your eyes

to path no one can see

do not bring

the candles – enlightened by tears

of the past

do not murmur

untold tales – conceived

by gods of the earth

go straight

to the door of immortality

and experience

the inexperienced

wonders of life and death

of joy and pain

do not cross the bridge, then,

that gives life to death,

gives joy to pain

the irony creates sin,

mind starts to think: whether

man’s life is man’s own pain!

walk, now, without cane

care not what people say –

believe in yourself: abandon your fear!

suffer no more –

follow the heart that speaks,

listen to voice – inner and deep

now, inhale the breath of life

and see in your eyes the way

where all people aspire to find

a place where tears and laughter,

pain and glory, sex and celibacy,

exist as One

– a place,

which in the first place,

no one can explain

this is the irony unspeakable:

exist and cease

be free and become slave

this is the irony inevitable:

now – you begin

tomorrow – you will end

STRANGER ON HIS OWN LAND

by rado gatchalian

the Word says we are all the same:

but as I travel on the train

i know

we are all strangers –

walking on our own possessive garments;

each mind – away from

home:

silence, tears, isolation –

each man is a god of unknown

legends;

the eye meets the eye

but we see a face of a lost child

the ears hear various voices

but words – altered and void

we keep on coming and going,

searching and losing:

some may cross the village unseen by time

others venture on a land where no names are known

few will visit a temple of purple and brown

many will stay in a place they do not want

the day when these carriages

can no longer carry our burden –

i will bear the cross on my own,

and live on mountains where everyone is welcome.

WORDS’ METAPHYSICS

by rado gatchalian

words have no walls

borders invisible to angels

open space reveals the soul

such freedom makes the muses bold

the ode may reveal the blood

and the blood as droplets of gold

though words are free like birds

each wing flies against the wind, unheard

words may travel south and north

but only a heart can spell a word

A DISSERTATION ON HUMANITY

by rado gatchalian

Sleep on a circle

                        unending

                        cycle

inside-and-outside of this thing

called:

MEANING

Looking at various hemispheres –

                        unknown

                        and absurd:

play the dice

or become an immortal slave

Wake up at the top

                        stop

                        then, hope

listen and remember – this thing

called:

LIFE

Viewing all the angles –

                        one might be confronted

                        or be delighted:

push the button

or become a skinless mannequin

THE TRAVELLER’S CREED

by rado gatchalian

i’m leaving the days of my past for the future I do not hold

i’m leaving my children in favour of uncertain dreams and hope;

all my pride I kept it for a while: though, before I was the master of my

     slaves,

now, i am a slave of many masters – unknown and sometimes mad;

as i carry the woods towards the unseen forest and high mountains

i lift my soul with prayers and footprints of valour;

like many dreamers, i travel with one bag of strong will

and a pack of hope to a land i do not know,

like all travellers, i wish to spend my days gathering pebbles from various

     spots

and keeping it tough inside my pockets of memories,

like all searchers, i will kiss the moon and clouds

and sing a song only fairies can understand,

as i wander from one point to another

i see a bit of light and a bit of shadow –

like all journey there is no stopover on the road

but only a signpost which says: “Slow Down”.