“People will not look forward to posterity who never look backward to their ancestors.” Edmund Burke
Somewhere not far from Breiðarmerkurjökull a man sings to the heavens, asking for answers to questions that plague him night and day.
He asks where all of the strength of man has gone, and if someday it shall return.
He asks where all of the courage went, and why now there's only selfish revenge.
He asks 'who will listen to the old stories now? Who will see the strength in gentlemen with tender hearts and open arms?'
He wonders what will become of children raised on dreams of being the 1% - so they too can dominate their fellow man, or revenge when all hope of that is spent.
For he doesn't see the answers - that used to beat in the heart of his community - in the souls of its mothers and the gentle peace of its fathers.
His ancestors, however, do not answer, instead they can only weep with him.
As only those who built his blood can.
The answer... he hears - echoing in the beating of his heart...
© Raena Exe 2023
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All the world is a stage, a play between what is and what is perceived. The eternal dance of duality.