Meant for Mars

It’s as if we landed on Mars. It’s proximal to the land of conversation, but the people here feel a cloud of distortion. We ring the bell and the only person that can answer is the one who works inside. We push our gurney into the cage; we’ve let go of our defense. Now, we just trust those who man the mental and hope that the pursuit of happiness is a bright lamp to those who walk and stroll inside.

By now, we’ve passed about four patients. I didn’t know Patient #5 was active and curious. My peripheral told me she was looking. I turned to her; she was wide eyed and big bodied. She wanted her privacy. Patient #6 surprises me. She’s young with a sensational figure; she’s attractive and her presence is luring. But she has a wristband. She’s been admitted. This planet took her in. And we’re with patient #7. He was the ticket to our entry. He speaks few words and comprehends even fewer syllables. I speak to him in Korean and he turns the possibility of helping us get in contact with family members into a hard hike. He says he lives with Hollywood actors. A social worker will accommodate him further.

Some of us want to discover Mars. But most of us don’t want to live there. Its organisms breathe a different air and we haven’t found much to know that there’s anything there that comprehends our language. If our mission extends to the ends of the earth, I’m sure there’s an infinite capability that love can travel there as well. If love settles there, Mars won’t seem so far away from us. It’s a planet in the midst of our own- sometimes, the people there will be grouchy, angry, and disgusting. But we should think that if love hadn’t settled here, then we’d be the same scoop of fragile annoyance disappearing onto another planet. But they’re here planted on our street corners and concrete blocks- yet this dirt shows possibility for growth and life. Our response to research and discovery is exciting. There’s something beautiful in them that we shouldn’t shy away to see; our existence comes from the same Creator and as much as we’ve been given breath, He wants us to breathe in that direction.

I tried finding patient #8;  I remember bringing him in the day before, but the board didn’t have his last name written up. We had a pleasing conversation in the back of the ambulance and I remember thinking, “He’s not meant for Mars”.  He got out. Good for him.


The Life of the Sea

Mountains, only if you can see the Oceans where water is king and drowning is his activity. He has no bounds and will not stop at six feet; death will shiver and numb our core till it rests our head on coral reef. Fish come to play and sometimes the bigger bullies manifest on its playground- the shark will not listen and blood is its Pavlov bell. It doesn’t have to ring because it won’t listen. It just wants to smell the tide of victory and swim towards its victim. The sea is restless even if the surface shows that its still. It’s calling Depression to jump in while the Rich ride through it. When the sun sets the waters now has its most fun. It’ll carve out blood from the healthiest heart and send it on a platter for the family to mourn over. The night hides the trace of man’s attempt to find what was missing. But the current knows better than to let man hint for hope. Even a tablet of stone loses its form and sediments peel away from its rules. It follows the life of the sea.

The life of the sea is a broad passage and it does not contain a pass code. It accepts all and beneath there’s room for everyone. Treasure will rust because man doesn’t want to kick its fin towards it. It will not give sympathy to a winded swimmer and it’ll mold around any history or future. It would be a god of its own and Poseidon its trusty assistant if it weren’t for the watchful eye of its real Creator. Yet, even He is deeper than the bottomless angles of untreaded water; no mammal wants to make it their territory, and human pride is no where near the bottom. But its arrogance thinks it knows the stretch of the sea. The sea is the reason land can flourish but it also the reason why land can flood. It looks flat and it shows the horizon to make us think of its limits but we have no vantage point to have first thought otherwise. 

We are limited and when the life of the sea comes to rock our boat, we are the Spirit that bow at the wave of an unrelenting pattern- the water holds its own and needs us not to canopy its inhabitants. We are a dismal breath away from truly quenching our thirst and before it’s too late, we’d want to make sure that we drank plenty and looked out enough to see the sun set on what seemed flat so that when evening comes, He’ll be our answer instead of the life of the sea.