Maker’s Mark

The joy of being born is horror then wonder. A life has nothing then the world gives it something. I am born and then what?

A newborn child crawls rapidly across the room, finding itself here then there then here again. The father lounges upon a nearby sofa and watches the TV screen rant on. Something happened a thousand miles away and it has his attention. The child keeps roaming while the house cat sits idling in the shadows. Too late! The child is upon her. Sweetly she attacks the feline with hugs and kisses. The animals have opposing desires. One wishes to keep and hold while the other wishes to be free. The child’s own freedom in cuddling this cat, no care given to its feelings, is freely wielded. On the TV screen, similar scenes unfold. No care given to the other. An individual shows off his freedom in existence and another is trapped by it. The father comes to the cat’s rescue, his eyes no longer glued, and scoops up his son. He twirls the child around who laughs gleefully, enjoying his entrapment. Under control but out of control. A man is pinned and screams on the TV a thousand miles away. He decided his freedom meant he could be anywhere he went, do what he pleased, but another decided their freedom lay in stamping this illusion out. Life collides further as the mother walks in bearing food. Her face lights up at the two. She shares a kiss with her man in this den of man, more dangerous than wolves to be sure. Yet so sweet is their picture that not even the torture of others might delete what love thrives. The TV is turned off. Hunger is sated. No more of those scenes now in the past but trapped in the present with camera. So many different actions, wills, and desires trying to leave the maker’s mark on this world. A thousand miles away a woman is shot. Yet still this family feasts, innocent as the child, independent as the cat. We all must die so why bother? Don’t worry. Someone will tell you, because they want to. Why not listen? Drown out what’s near you.