Writing. Culture. Politics. Wandering.
Thoughts of immortality, humanity and our kind. In remembrance of a friend who has moved on. Once more.
What if a man from a time of before the Exodus survived until the present day. Witness to mankind’s attempts to leave its cradle, its efforts to spread across its fellow worlds, its failures of losing humanity and unity in spreading beyond the void to life under a myriad of different suns.
What would he be like, what would he think of our efforts, our victories. The horrors of our own creation. Would he still be human, or would he think of us as something more or less than this. Would the differences be a divide, a problem or a mirror of our soul.
Would he still be with us, a part of the societies we create. Or would he have sailed away, turned his back on a humanity other than his own. Would he be tempted to share with us his life, his dreams and nightmares. Could he even be tempted to do so. Should he. Should we.
What knowledge he would posses. What insight into man’s established nature and its choices. What wealth of perspectives he would have, regardless of whether he were with us, among us, or looking at us from the back of the next beyond. What would it be like to see him, travel with him, or to merely sit alongside him – in silence and in listening to thoughts or tears.
Would he still meet us, could he still find happiness with some or even one of us. Should he embrace us still. Would we not welcome him, take him in to our arms, knowing that while we in our human lives can go home, he will never find one or even be able to look back or forward to one.
Man’s history is diverse, it contains a wealth of accomplishments, it has become a path we walk where the question of whether the road matters more than the horizon has become one best not to ask at all. Our history is overshadowed by nightmares, a fleet of scattered ships sailing seas of blood. How long would such a man be able to partake in such a journey. How quickly would he steer his own ship away. Would he come back from time to time to bear witness, or would his humanity remain present enough to face temptations of reaching for the helm of any of our many scattered ships.
What if a man from a time of before the Exodus survived until the present day. Witness to man meeting the shattered agents of its creation, pitting one waking brother against the sleeping fallen one – celebrating their demise. Observing a glorious journey turning into one of conquest, again and again. Watching us destroy our own cradle, seeing man send its children away and in fear of them destroying the road they took, denying them their family, home and future. Would he still cry over man meeting another brother among the stars, embracing it solely to repeat the ancient and forgotten act of Cain and Abel. Or would he accept our nature, look another way and embrace the silence of diverging paths.
How could that man not have turned his back on us. How could he not have tried to steer us clear from evils of our own creation. How could he not have failed in any such noble attempts to share what should be our common humanity. How could he not have left us to our own darkness.
Would we truly receive him with arms and eyes open. Would we not turn away, afraid of looking in the mirror. Would we not do to him what we do to ourselves.
I wish I could meet him. If only to be reminded enough of myself as human to not fall prey to fear and disbelief, giving in to thoughts and actions which have turned our history in to one of nightmares, before it is too late. Before I could no longer will my heart and mind to not give in to such ingrained reflexes, breaking mirrors as I fall.
I wish I could meet such a man. But now, not later. I am but a man, and not one on his own. I am part of something larger, and this ultimately affects us all.
I wish I could meet him again. Not for counsel or advise. Not to give in to tears of pain and past. But to sit and talk, to share a drink with laughter, feeling the warmth of fire at the sound of music of us all.
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