The Country Road Walk

The Famous Troubles of Humanity

Winding tales unravel as words find meaning within accepting hearts. The walking man was ready to understand the meaning of life. He was a seeker and a lover of truth. 

The scorning critic was his enemy, languishing in the corner within mind shelves of illusion, waiting to berate every deviance from the indoctrinated perspective. Why, there is relative truth naive man, don't you believe in the indoctrination!

He thought as he walked down a forested country road,

Will fruitful discussions be had, when everyone knows everything and no-one knows anything at all?

The scorning critic wasn't amused - he had heard all before. He had a smartphone in the land of the dumb. His abilities now far surpassed carriages and horseback rides to town, drinking from a hand-drawn well, and using a compost toilet. Now, he was modernized with individual American style. 

Rebuking the scorning darts, the man walked and imagined an entire nation living off their laurels; in fact, those faithful of yore. He remembered, in wind whispers on historical nights, pleading remembrances bellowing softly, warning the ignorant and deceived of perils and sorrow if lessons are forgotten in vain. 

Alongside peaceful bliss on warm country roads were the famous troubles of humanity. The emergency sirens blasting bad news seemingly forever in present modern conditioning. Masterly planned plots refined with endless resources and merciless intentions - symptomatic eruptions inevitably requiring the watchman's report.

The scornful critic knew the walking man was right, the rascal scorner living for corndogs with mustard, strawberry ice cream, and plenty of scorning targets. With those like him, hope and reason are lost within unanchored boats in seas of regret, as wayward souls emanate through dimensional portals in quiet repose, delighted to be asleep and caressed by lies. 

Frequencies of Truth

 The walking man was experienced with the cycles for over four blessed decades of God-given life. Holistic cycles, with the "now" spinning around within the cycles - the present reality in this human dimension. 

His burdens were light, as he had a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. This was the purpose of his hope, it was the result of his life-long task of finding truth and meaning - in itself and personally. The long and winding pathway of understanding, sifted through carnal minds resisting their spiritual vegetables, had led to a rural road through a beautiful forest on a warm sunny day. 

He thought,

Scorner in the mind, frustrated by cycles with mangled teeth. Get a hold of something other than your 'self.' Find encouragement and give it generously, as a grateful being moved by goodness and wholesomeness. 

He still had a long way to walk, even 20 miles to the next town. Along the quiet country roads of the Northwest. Trees and forest shaded his path along delightful roads glimmering with peaceful contentment. There was a need for thought, for the mind space where time isn't an issue, where immediate focus overrides the routine clatter. 

Walking along with thoughts coming here and there, reaching a frequency of truth, where sin doesn't reside knowingly. The ubiquitous screen out of his face, senses focused on the road ahead with hope, and maybe even whistling a peaceful tune to match the one God put in his heart. 

He thought about the know-it-all conundrum, how he once was a genius and now he found himself as dumb as his smartphone. He was just glad he finally realized how much he didn't know -  before irrevocable damage was done to mind-matter emerged in indoctrinated knowledge and social mores twisting absolute truth into pieces of regret and aimlessness. 

He had become a fool, that he may become wise. He praised Jesus while walking down the country road in the early afternoon with a heart full of gratitude. One day the road would end for the man in this dimension, yet he knew that's when it would really just begin.