This poem is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life is entirely coincidental.
The Sun smiled down on Her loyal Devotee.
The Devotee accepted the Sun’s loving warmth.
The warmth reached the ground through the shady trees
As dappled light landed gently on the ground.
The Devotee longed to see more of the Sun
So, he retreated from the forest floor.
To deserts and savannahs, the Devotee would run,
For he so longed to see the Sun’s burning core.
After running and running for many long years,
The Devotee found himself in unusual places.
He became fully immersed in all of his fears,
Surrounded by new ideas and unfamiliar faces.
“You worship the Sun?”, asked a proud Skeptic.
“The Sun gives me life”, the Devotee replied.
He so believed gods are their own greatest critics.
The Skeptic, however, laughed but then cried.
“Poor fool”, the Skeptic cruelly began,
“The Sun is a star; it knows not of your existence.”
“The Sun provides light to many great lands”,
The Devotee replied, voicing his objection.
The Skeptic laughed and walked away.
He thought to himself, “What a foolish Devotee.”
The Devotee then began to pray,
“Sun, I long for you to set me free.”
The Sun was indeed a compassionate god,
She asked, “What should I do to set you free?”
“Your face is always obscured, dear god,
I wish to see you in all of your beauty.”
The Sun grew increasingly concerned;
The Devotee’s request was full of risk.
It keeps alive mammals, plants, and birds,
But the Sun’s light could also make it hard to live.
The Sun, nonetheless, answered honestly.
She said, “To see me, all you must do is look up.”
The gift of Vision sailed away from the Devotee,
And he felt as if he had lost all his luck.
“Oh, Sun, you vengeful god,
Why this fate you have given to me?”
The Sun replied, “Do not sob,
It is you who wanted to be really free.”
The Devotee felt ill at ease.
The Sun felt sorry for the blind man.
“Freedom is not what I have received,
But blindness; I can’t even see my own hands!”
“Every gift is also a flaw.
My light gives life but also takes away sight.”
The blind Devotee let out a great roar,
As he wept and wept through the never-ending Night.
“I shall never again worship the Sun,
For the Sun took away my precious Vision.
In my life, I will no longer have any Fun.
I will never be able to achieve my ambitions.”
So he spoke, the disillusioned Devotee,
As a cold wind swept across his face.
Every door was locked; he wanted a key.
The Devotee longed to return to his place.
But a pilgrim in a foreign land,
Separated from home by mountains and seas.
The language, he couldn’t understand.
Would he ever again be free?
The Night grew colder and spoke to him:
“Poor Devotee, you have been betrayed.
You worshipped the Sun and so did your kin,
But the Sun has led you to this terrible fate.”
The Devotee sighed and agreed with the Night,
So the Night grew gentler and the wind settled down.
“Night, you are a god of great might,
Help me out of this pain into which I now drown.”
The Night chuckled and said to Her Devotee:
“Leave behind the Sun, and become one of My disciples.”
The Devotee was quick to accept and agree:
“Night, you are the only god who is reliable!”
So the Devotee switched his allegiance
From the light of the Sun to the darkness of Night.
The Devotee was certain that he would find freedom,
Now that with gods, he would no longer need to fight.
Just as the Devotee was going to pray,
The Sun rose up once more in the Eastern sky.
“Night, don’t you leave me, don’t go away!”,
Said the Devotee as he started to cry.
The Sun felt real sorrow for the blind man:
“Night is afraid of me, can’t you see?
The minute I rise She retreats to other lands!
It is only I who will help you to be free.”
“Sun, you flawed and imperfect star”,
Said the Devotee as his Anger grew stronger.
“A devil, a devil, a devil you are,
Giving life to us creatures only to kill us with fear!”
The Sun felt bad but did not reply,
As the Devotee felt pain ache through his heart.
The Devotee felt as if the Sun were a lie:
A ghastly raven, not a beautiful star.
To never worship the Sun, the Devotee had vowed.
He had also vowed to never worship the Night.
A crowd of people, by now, gathered ‘round,
And their voices caused the Devotee fright.
“Blind man, blind man, can’t you see?
What are you doing, for whom do you suffer?”
“I was once the Sun’s favourite Devotee,
But for true Love, I can only rely on my Mother.”
The onlookers attempted to offer advice,
But the Devotee had already started to leave.
He tripped over obstacles thanks to no sense of sight,
But he somehow made it; he would finally be free.
Outside of his Mother’s beautiful home,
Where the Devotee had been nurtured and loved.
He stood there by himself, he indeed felt alone,
But above him flew a small, gorgeous Dove.
The Dove’s presence he heard as he knocked,
But to his surprise, there was no answer.
The Devotee forcefully opened the lock,
And in there was Death in the form of his Mother.
The Devotee wept for mercy from the gods,
Not even his Mother could he now trust.
The Devotee wasn’t asking for a lot,
He just needed someone to give him true Love.
Someone reliable, someone true;
The Devotee wanted an unchanging constant.
The Devotee felt there was nothing more to lose,
So he prayed to the Dove who had now flown to the fountain.
As the Water trickled down onto the bird’s white feathers,
The Devotee asked the Dove for advice:
“Why do all the gods keep me tethered?
Why won’t they let me, but allow you to fly?”
The Dove replied to the Devotee:
“You will not find your answer in pain.
You will not find your answer in misery,
But anguish is necessary for gain.”
“Of course, there’s a catch”, said the Devotee,
“There just has to be pain and suffering!”
The Devotee entered psychotherapy;
A final attempt to discover life’s Meaning.
“What ails?”, asked the Therapist,
The Devotee replied, “I have nobody.
Of my problems I’ve made an entire list.”
The Devotee gave it to the Therapist.
By the end of the hour, he felt renewed,
The Devotee knew he’d found his god.
But soon his therapy became a feud,
He was stubborn and refused to change a lot.
As the Devotee ate a rather bland lunch,
He decided to terminate psychotherapy.
His unconscious, the Devotee hated very much;
The depths of his mind were quite painful to see.
The blind Devotee longed for much more.
He couldn’t understand what was wrong with him.
All he wanted to do was to see the Sun’s core.
How could he have known how painfully it would sting?
The Devotee needed a god who could pave a road
To Compassion and Kindness, to Happiness and Love.
So he went to the bank and took out a loan,
To worship the material, to turn to Fun.
Fun seemed like He could not betray,
But betray He could, and betray He did.
The Devotee lost all the money he’d saved,
And realised that Fun was nothing but a fib.
The Devotee, now growing old and weak,
Desired Meaning though he had lost all Hope.
Meaning and Love he attempted to seek,
But in Misery and Sadness, he was now soaked.
He cried to Love: “Where are you?
Everyone eludes me, why do they do so?”
Love replied: “I live within you,
You elude everyone, why do you do so?”
The Devotee became enveloped in Anger,
“How could I possibly love another?
Others fail to give me Love.
Even my own, my dearest Mother!”
Then immortal Death arrived at the scene.
Immortal Death, whom the Devotee hated.
“You took my Mother away from me,
Are you here to offer condolences, albeit belated?”
“No”, said Death with a sad expression,
“I am the source of all true Meaning.”
The Devotee still hadn’t learned his lesson,
So Death continued to inspect his feelings.
“I’ve worked with Love throughout my life,
To bring Meaning to every mortal’s day.
Together, we help you to avoid evil Strife,
But it’s your duty to follow our ways.
“You must love, and you must give,
You must help others and yourself.
You will then begin to truly live,
You will indeed avoid the fires of Hell.”
So Death spoke reassuring words,
To a Devotee whose Ignorance began to leave.
“Love and Death, allies? That’s a first!”,
Said the laughing Devotee, who was now finally free.
To find Meaning and Purpose wasn’t hard.
The Devotee just needed to be more logical.
The moment he started to follow his heart,
He found joy in doing that which is ethical.
The Devotee worshipped gods no more.
He worshipped the goodness around him, instead.
People are made not to succeed and soar,
But to keep their brethren healthy and well-fed.
The Devotee was now truly devoted
To a life of Compassion and of Service.
Now, the Sun, the Devotee supported,
Despite the Devotee’s painful blindness.
The Devotee then spoke his final words,
As the people around him cried rivers of tears:
“Lead a life of Love and serve others,
Do not be enslaved to pleasures or fears.”
So the Devotee spoke prophetic words,
And went to Heaven to live with God.
Love and Death are allies, that’s for certain:
The opening and closing of the curtains.