The Deeper Song

The mystery of life reveals itself in glimpses, a lingering silence or sudden flash, an echo heard before, or whisper lacking words. Perhaps we are awed now and then by the profundity of our ignorance—when that house of cards we call ego fails to dazzle with lies.
     We search for that mystery, hoping to be enlightened, hoping to see and touch and hear what only the heart recognizes—and then, only for a moment.
     We detect it in art and poetry and music. The siren's song, time caught on canvas, the unworldliness of twilight, lunar shadows gaping on a hill, a twist of words saying far more than the words themselves. We struggle to comprehend as cloud shapes dissipate. Our hands grasp nothing but the memory of—what?
     We fear the final abyss without knowing where it leads. Can "nothing" be tasted? Or silence heard?
     We search for songs that will guide us, pointing to the reality within. Hymns, love songs, rap. A beat to march by. A joyful tune or bitter lament. We need to dance to something.
     But the deeper song, that inner dirge, the very soul that weeps for recognition, we turn away from, or try shaping it to someone else's tune. The words are whispered, yet echo throughout our inner being, the constant pulse repeating its message: "here I am; listen to my longings; light thy candle with this inner flame."
     The deeper song is the life that drives us. No whisper from the gods or muse; no sign from heaven or ancient script; no omen or shift of constellations. It is the urge that gave us life, and challenges the dull continuum by asking: "What now? Surely there is more than this!"
     And then it speaks the answer: "Yes, indeed."
     The deeper song sings of greatness for our species yet unclaimed, urging us to bring forth—something! An answer perhaps. A remedy. New hope. If not transcendence, then a life better lived for us all.
     Chivalry extends from this deeper song. What more do we need?