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| Lotus Blossoms |
With an eternal shrug, we run from ignorance to indifference because caring hurts too much. There are too many questions, too many contradictions, and which voice do we heed? There is too much that's truthy and not enough truth, too much myopic boldness in declaring things we don't understand and too little courage to live by the truths we know and have ever known. So it's educators' fault, right? The government's problem? Ah, but we've forgotten: we've been sitting in front of a monitor too long to remember that success begins and ends with S or us. Does the flower cease to grow when the gardener's away, or is he there to give the plant the things it needs to grow on its own time? Does the lily shrivel and die in the field when God at times seems far off?
So maybe we really think we're justified... Sure, they waste my time with things I'll never use. Why should I wear out my eyes to memorize their fickle facts and truths that might be lies? I don't need them; I don't need anyone! The wisdom of the eternities is before us--a click away! But the thing is, no matter what you say, we're surfing through a sea of trifles and we're drowning. That Pandora's box before our eyes, that epileptic frenzy of images and sounds that sear our senses and cauterize our minds, it reduces us to a state of vegetative bliss (and surely none can fail to recognize the rapturous euphoria of cauliflower-existence). So we're happy with our lot. We're content to while away our hours in books of faces that we barely know, to breakfast on discontent and lunch upon our lotus leaves. And only thunder wakes us from our reverie.
[This is an excerpt from a spoken word poem in three parts, each addressing problems with the American educational system. Stay tuned for "Hegemony" and "Insularity," the accompanying (unfinished) sisters to this selection.]
