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The Whirlwind of Man (1.4.14)

“The whirlwind of man speaks of increasing speed,

                                       speaks of increasing knowledge,

                                       speaks of increasing assimilation.

The whirlwind of man sees him vanish and reappear from sight,

                                     sees him go before he comes,

                                     sees him stop before he starts,

                                     sees him switching at ever greater speeds:

                                                                 as the intents effect change within his spirit and his soul.

The whirlwind of man has debris scattered all around,

                                     has possessions not tidily put away,

                                     has calls remaining unanswered,

                                     has children begging for a ride,

                                     has destinations queuing up,

                                     has voices coming from every which direction.

The whirlwind of man has visits still outstanding,

                                     has services needing to be utilized,

                                     has segments still needing to be explored,

                                     has his resting time invaded,

                                     has his living space encroached upon,

                                     has his personal growth shored up by the timetables imposed by others,

                                     has his solitude interrupted without due cause or reason.

The whirlwind of man has no way of slowing down,

                                                                 twirls faster and faster until exhaustion claims its space.

The whirlwind of man seeks but can no longer find,

                                     encounters confusion where there should be clarity,

                                     cannot stem the tide as it rushes in and is unwilling to recede.

The whirlwind of man takes a breath which is difficult to expel,

                                     would sit upon a seat which already is reserved,

                                     sees a breakdown looming which will have to take its turn.

The whirlwind of man has brought it on himself,

                                     is dancing to a tune created by the fiddler,

                                                                     created by the fiddler who also knows a jig,

                                                                     created by the fiddler which make the feet a blur.

The whirlwind of man needs to seek shelter from the storm,

                                     needs a stormproof shelter,

                                     needs a time set for restoration of a quieter pace.

The whirlwind of man needs a servant to keep him spinning,

                                     needs two servants to send him on his way,

                                     needs three servants to prepare him for the day after tomorrow.

The whirlwind of man hits the limit of performance,

                                     starts to unwind in pieces which could not be glued together,

                                     starts to carry tablets which affect performance,

                                     starts to source the alcohol thought to carry relaxation.

The whirlwind of man sought the biggest and the best,

                                     climbed the ivory tower one staircase at a time,

                                     replenished his consumption by overtime and often set alarms.

The whirlwind of man targeted like minds,

                                     became the driven rather than the driver,

                                     had a backseat enclosed in loneliness by surrounding glass.

The whirlwind of man is built on debt readied to collapse:

                                                                    when it cannot be played so to join his tune,

                                                                    when it grows so fat it wants nothing but to depart –

                                                                                        before a kingdom falls in splinters which can stake a heart.

The whirlwind of man leaves a trail of destruction impacting on surrounding lives.

                     Yet still the fiddler jigs.

                     Yet still the fiddler prepares for the crescendo.

                                      The crescendo which sees man wrought in two as he becomes distraught –

                                                                                                                 a shadow of his former self.

The whirlwind of man leads to an accounting,

                                     leads to the courts of law,

                                     leads to a lesson learnt far too late,

                                     leads to a sleepless night upon a park bench in the rain.

The whirlwind of man has finally come crashing down,

                                     has run out of energy,

                                     has finally dissolved,

                                     has been swept up and thrown into an empty bin reserved for strippings,

                                     has neither mourners nor friends standing station at the park bench with a helping hand.


      A stranger approaches with a hand extended,

                       greets and sits within the rain,

                       chats and offers help for a new beginning,

                       overlooks the past and fixes eyes upon what yet can surely be,

                       offers hope and tasks for which the companion can be qualified,

                       sees the gleam of hope restored into the eyes,

                       sees the struggle to leave the park bench where peace had finally made an entrance.


      The stranger walks with an arm around the companion who matters very much,

                            takes the companion to a meal,

                            takes the companion to an inn,

                            supplies the needs of the companion with a promise to return.


      The stranger,

               no longer a stranger,

                            visits and enhances;

                            strengthens and supports;

                            teaches and amazes;

                            with all he has to offer:

                                               as the whirlwind of man,

                                                                now a straggler,

                                                                               follows at his pace of comfort and of ease –

                                                                                                  as he walks the pathway of the stranger now a friend.”


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