Ode to Humanity
What is humanity? Well, we are humanity. Should we disappear from the world humanity would be
what is left b
ehind. So what will be left behind from us? Will what is left behind be considered good? Beautiful maybe? Worthy of preserving? I for one believe so. Our art and our architecture and whatever else we will be able to leave behind of our lives will both literally and figuratively, should they stand the test of time, stand as a monument to everything that we are, what we will be, and what we have ever been. We have been given examples, we have seen art, contemplated it, we have seen the architecture wrought from the hands and minds of those who wished to leave something greater than their name, and we have looked into the very depths of one of the greatest tragedies that our world has and will ever experience in the course of human history. What we have seen are the constructions and destructions of humanities that live in our present and by extension into our futures. We have been shown clearly how these constructs persist though their creators are ei
ther long past, or not long for this world either in mortality or in their endeavor for work. That is reality. We have seen what others created and after having been pushed to take picture of all the things that move us, however I think it is time that we all take a new prerogative should we be so inclined. We are now the creators, or at least we should be. We study history not just so that we may avoid making the mistakes of the, but also to repeat its successes. So we must all become creators. It doesn’t mean we all need to have a painting in an art gallery, though creating artistically is considered to be one of man’s purest forms of creation. We must create with all the things that make us human, we must all create using our humanity and we must do it for all of humanity. I will even take for the first step though I am more inclined to the artistic route, I fancy myself a poet. Now picture yourself a Rose facing the turning of the world, or better yet, let me show you my metaphor through a rose’s eyes, that despite all the happenings around us there has been beauty created and it deserves our attention regardless. Maybe one day we will be regarded the same
Rose:
It is Winter
And I am cold,
I am a rose growing cold
I endure the cold, with bold
But my petals still fall,
The petals are my hope,
My life’s last breath,
I cling to my final petal
As it is spring’s final jest
The petal will fall though
And I will fall,
It is springtime’s set
And winter’s rise,
And though we treat it as a surprise
It is a time where all roses must die,
Though the spring abandoned it
And the winter brings its demise
The rose falls seeing the beauty of the wintertime
And though I must watch
As my last petals touch the earth
And though I can feel my last breath escaping
I will fall as though it were the first day of spring
For there is beauty in every season our world brings
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