Bogu?

     Are You there Bogu…?

    I know I’ve asked before, but this time I’d appreciate an answer. Are You there Bogu? 

    All of Your signs I admit are wrapped in a sense of irony, if I understand then correctly, but what I need now is direction. 

    It is not that I’m at a fork in the road, I’m way past that. Forks are fine for Irish poets, or those who live on Walden Pond, but I’m neither. I just got off a boat, which was supposed to be my magic carpet ride to a new life. Supposed to be? Ring a bell? Adam and Eve? Moses? the Last Supper? All well-conceived, no doubt examples of what was expected, implied, but again I’m past that phase in my development. I need answers, not a coloring book which teaches me lessons if I stay within the lines, and only You know what will happen I assume, if I don’t.

    I wish not to appear ungrateful; I know there are billions of people in the world, not all in your camp, but nonetheless you have Your share of souls. Because I was subjected to Your brand of, I should not suggest indebtedness, but I will, Your mouth to my ear. 

    Once you’ve spent your entire life subject to rules spiced with Your particular flavoring, it is difficult, if not impossible, to retreat to what you have been schooled to believe as an inferior version of the Truth.

    It may sound like I’m unappreciative of life, but nothing could be further from the truth. I do appreciate the speed and efficiency of a boat compared to the dirt paths and heat of South American trails, not to mention the thousand-mile trip on foot in an attempt to escape authoritarian corruption, and the autocracy laden atmosphere that supports it. But I digress, an ailment that indecision incubates in purpose, for those seeking freedom. And speaking of freedom…

    This is precisely the reason I’m asking you to respond to my request. I do not wish to place You in the crosshairs as they say, but if there was ever a time to break Your hiatus regarding interaction with those who are under Your charge, now would be it. Given the past years of insecurity due to someone having let the Corona Genie out of the gravy boat, jeopardizing the future of the human race, time has taken on a relevance not appreciated for the past one hundred years, if one dismisses WWII and Vietnam as mere skirmishes.

    I do not mean to imply your involvement has been…non-existent, although there has been little if any evidence of spiritual involvement relating to an intervention rivaling that of the loaves and fishes. Again, I know You are busy with all the nonsense that passes for progress, but perhaps, and this is not why I’m seeking Your council, a reality check in the form of let’s say, an unpredicted eclipse? 

    We all know You have the ability, the power; the parting of the Red Sea comes to mind. Anything to direct people’s attention to matters that matter, given the present state of self-induced me-ism. By me-ism, I’m referring to the selfish inclusion of an evolutionary trend towards personal enhancement, no matter the cost to others or the planet we depend upon.

    It is in this vein that I implore you to take out the ear buds, take off the headphones, and hear my plea for salvation from the expanding grip of resource exploitation. I know that You have no reason to listen to my appeal, for deliverance from blind exploration by technology, in an effort to divert attention from the reality of the fact, that we no longer have a choice but to join the other members of Your Grand Experiment, the Dinosaur and Passenger Pigeon.

    I do not wish to grovel, but I feel compelled to, because although our species has wavered from the evolutionary path by using only a portion of our brains, while refusing the oversight of morality to overrule the predictability of attempting to do more with less, while advocating for doing everything with nothing, I believe all is not lost, yet! 

    I am not imploring You to throw the money changers out of the Temple, but to take their dice away, “for they know not what they do,” to be honest.

    Your recent influence on global weather patterns has been appreciated, and I do believe the devastation has been noticed, although disregarded as a cyclical response to millennial changes. I am asking in the name of all of us who can read the writing on the subway walls, to perhaps increase the velocity and volume of your message. It apparently is being drowned out by our obsession with consumerism, and all it implies. 

    We are trapped by our own greed in a spiral of devolution. Our moral and ethical polls have been reversed by manipulation, and the refusal to believe in the finite nature of the planet and universe You have been credited for creating, at least in the quarters I frequent, are in decline. I have no reason to believe You did not mean it when you said, “Let there be light.” I however am not convinced we have interpreted Your directive in the manner in which it was intended. Similarly, I must note your edict, “go forth and prosper.” I do not believe it gave a cart Blanche permission to breed ourselves out of existence. 

    Should the word “there,” actually have been, “their,” which would cast an entirely new light on Your message. It would infer a search for knowledge, enlightenment, truth, which would encourage educational endeavors to consider not only progress and growth, as far as man’s survival is concerned, but that the findings be tempered with the idealism imbedded in consequences. “What does it profit a man to gain the whole…well, You of all Gods know the answer to that one.

    I stand before You, (I of course can only assume You can not only see, but hear me) at a junction asking for direction. Although new to this country, I can tell it is in as much trouble as my beloved homeland; slightly more attractive; the old adage of lipstick and a pig comes to mind. That however is not what concerns me.

    If we are, as they say, slip sliding away, and anticipation is greater than reality, should we abandon our ethics and morality, and just burn the place down? What have we really got to lose, a future that doesn’t belong to us, but to those unfortunate souls who have had their presence timed un- advantageously?

    Bogu, if You hear me, please give me a sign, so that I have an indication of Your plans for us. If I do not hear from you soon, I, and many others, may be forced to choose our own path, and only You know where that may lead. We have a propensity for mushroom clouds and rainy days if you remember.

    I appreciate the latest ice storm, the tornadoes in the middle of winter, but to be honest, the devastation doesn’t register with most of my fellow travelers, as anything other than an inconvenience that happens to others, and we thank You for that, but…

    I have a return ticket, and if hell as we know it, is on both ends of our conundrum, then perhaps You could show some of that compassion You’ve become known for, and show us the way to Big Rock Candy Mountain, where the streams flow with whiskey, and salvation is just a monetary contribution away.

Two'j Naprande