A Word Portrait for 6.5 Billion...

The world's population is said to have surpassed the 6.5 billion mark today at 7:16pm EST [see article here]. Lest we get down on anyone, that's you and me that are part of that number. I heard that the planet has gotten crowded because everyone wants to be here for the big show. The transition. The end of time and life as we know it. Maybe so. If we all manage to hang on, there will be 7 billion of us by 2012. Will we get ourselves figured out by then. That remains to seen.

In honor of this great population milestone, I am posting this thoughtful poetic portrait of mankind, painted by one of my favorite writer-bloggers Gary J. Introne. Take the hand of your nearest fellow earthling and enjoy!

5. THAT SIMULACRUM OF LIVING I WITNESSED ANEW:

And just like that it was dark out and the cold winds were blowing and there was a white hoarfrost on everything and the entire scene was tinted by that white and the lame sun arose slowly like a too-heavy tomb of life encased in its own orb and the orange turned to yellow turned to white itself but a white too weak to prosper and the dead-seeming world lingered well past its prime as the depths of the day met the ice of the nights and soon enough everything was over and the entire length and breadth of creation had died and withered and rats scurried in early daylight seeking something anything new and the few birds left tried living as they’d done but found it hard and the shortness of days met the long lengths of night and the calendar itself - having drifted from joy - seemed staggered and sorry with its very own blight but along the reaches of the sour earth trailed mankind - tired and soiled and weary and done - and their souls as one all sought for the light and their souls as one tried reaching for that which they wanted (but had forgotten to ask for) and betrayed by emotions their tired heels wandered slowly amidst sorrow and danger and cold and deprivation and want - millions and hundreds of millions wandering between whatever seeking consort seeking comfort seeking all that once had made them glad but finding nothing instead but conflict and cant and the tiresome palaver of blemish and rant - FOR THESE ARE all mankind’s days and they are numbered and finished soon and as the death sinks into the earth so too do they themselves - like the shortness of days - wither and die before rebirthing again.

The Thanksgiving Story
blogged by
Gary J. Introne