poem

its sofia
sorry its so late, ive been really sick. It might not actually be a poem but i call it one. I figure that when it talks of the future it isnt trying to predict it but it talks of the future that we work for in life. I guess i like it because it reminds me what i work for, slowly. It reminds me what peace sounds like. It also reminds me what i imagine my grandparents are trying to explain to me when they tell me stories of their childhood.

its called A Glance at The Future by Khalil Gibran.

From behind the wall of the Present I heard the hymns of humanity. I heard the sounds of the bells announcing the beginning of the prayer in the temple of Beauty.

Bells molded in the metal of emotion and poised above the holy alter--the human heart.

From behind the Future I saw multitudes worshipping on the bosom of Nature, their faces turned towards the East and awaiting the inundation of the morning light-- the morning of Truth.

I saw the city in ruins and nothing remained to tell man of the defeat of Ignorance and the triumph of Light.

I watched the elders seated under the shade of cypress and willow trees, surrounded by youths listening to their tales of former times.

I saw the youths strumming their guitars and piping on their reeds and the loose-trussed damsels dancing under the jasmine trees.

I saw the husbandmen harvesting the wheat, and the wives gathering the sheaves and singing mirthful songs. I saw woman adorning herself with a crown of lilies and a girdle of green leaves.

I saw Friendship strengthened between man and all creatures, and clans of birds and butterflies, confident and secure, winging towards the brooks.

I saw no poverty; neither did I encounter excess. I saw fraternity and equality prevailing among man. I saw not one physician, for everyone had the means
and knowledge to heal himself.

I found no priest, for conscience had become the High Priest. Neither did I see a lawyer, for Nature has taken the place of the courts, and treaties of amity and companionship were in force.

I saw that man knew that he is the cornerstones of creation, and that he has raised himself above littleness and baseness and cast off the veil of confusion
from the eyes of the soul; this soul now reads what the clouds write on the face of heaven and what the breeze drawn on the surface of the water; now understands the meaning of the flower's breath and the cadences of the
nightingale.

From behind the wall of the Present, upon the stage of coming ages, I saw Beauty as a groom and Spirit as a bride, and Life as the ceremonial Night of the Kedre.


[NOTE: Kedre = A night during the Moslem Lent when God is said to grant the wishes of the devout.]