Echoes of the Universe: A Reflection on Humanity's Paradox

I carry the entire universe within my heart.

Oceans that reveal infinity,

Ancient and wise trees,

Leaving marks upon your clothes when embraced,

Winds that tousle your hair like a playful elder brother,

And creatures in perfect harmony with their own rhythm.

My eyes are windows to nature,

Illuminating my own inner world.

The universe does not whisper its secrets to me,

But instead, it sends me images—

Mischievous, wise—

For me to ponder and discover.

My monologues with the universe

Gain meaning in proportion to my capacity and openness to see.

In this world, nothing is as painful

As the “developed primitiveness” of humankind.

The burning sting of a wasp that, in childhood,

Struck my leg out of self-defense,

Does not burn as fiercely as human greed and self-interest.

How is it that we, who take pride in the civilizations we’ve built,

See ourselves as the superior creatures of this world,

Yet cause the most harm to the earth,

And even more to our own kind?

This so-called advancement, perhaps,

Is nothing more than the cry of our most needy,

Most raw, and most insecure corners.

And when the cry subsides,

It transforms into a grand illusion.

The curse of greed blinds,

Reducing humanity to something even smaller,

An unfinished creature.

Perhaps those animals we look down upon for not building civilizations,

Refuse because they are morally superior to us?

Perhaps their souls are so content,

That they have no need for civilization,

No need to understand or to explain.