Our Pages

- Herbal Medicine
- The Clinic
- Richard Whelan

- Alphabetically

- By Group
- Alphabetical

- Clinic Hours
Clinic Location

- Ancient wisdom in the modern world


Despairing of Delusion

momentary agitation
has no palpable beginning
and far too many 'ticket-sellers' to its end

despairing of delusion,
that peace which comes
that fatherless bastard,
that robber

holds me like a gnat in its fist
and splits my sides with joy



This poem is an attempt to write of something that rather defies verbal expression and, whilst I am sure there are rules about not explaining one's poems, I really have no wish to present something undecipherable on what is already a near-impossible subject to discuss so...

'This momentary agitation' is... well it's everything! Life itself is an agitation of previously undisturbed molecules and, with respect to eternity, it's certainly momentary.

The 'no palpable beginning' part is speaking to the marvellous impossibility of explaining how all 'this' came into being in the first place! (I mean what happened before the 'big-bang', not after)

The 'ticket sellers to its end' are those various spiritual salesmen who, after passing off the mystery of creation to an indefinable deity, then offer salvation in the afterlife (for the small downpayment of allegiance and obedience in this one)

'despairing of delusion' is about that, if we will be entirely honest, most of the concepts we tell each other and ourselves to make sense of this mortal coil are really just stories to keep our fears at bay.

'...and the peace that comes'' we are no more than specks of dust in the Cosmos, and it is only being that small, that stripped away, that 'robbed' of our comforting delusions, that can allow us to shrink to such a size that reality can be somewhat sensed rather than merely conceptualised.

Then, its peace may come to us, because we surely cannot go to it, and there is such a joy in that.




© 2011 R.J.Whelan Ltd