When the strange becomes usual

While meditating on the current happenings of the times we are in, I felt inspired to write these words. We all know we are in difficult times all over the world. From the popular coronavirus pandemic to people regarding themselves as genderless, I think this is a time to step back, reflect on our perception of ourselves-who we really are, what life means to us and our utmost aim at the end of our lives. I hope these words become the force that brings you to that place of retreat and meditation.
When the strange becomes usual
The boisterous oceans lack its brininess
When the grass exists without due freshness
And mother sun bears a dim light
A company of existence forgets its duty
 
When the strange becomes usual
Fathers cease to sweat the toil
And mothers spend more on talk
When children mock that never to be mocked
A generation devoid of history is born
 
When the strange becomes usual
Princes walk in lonely, undefined paths
Slaves galloping swiftly on horses back
Damsels eat from the pigs’ plate
And Maids sit at the table banqueting
A people have bequest their inheritance
 
When the strange becomes usual
The chattering drowning the thinking
The paints eclipsing the real
When meaning and purpose is lost
Energy fallen too quite low
Then, may we at least know

 

 

 

Love,

Ayobambo

 

 

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