CHRISTMAS 2024

Red-breasted Nuthatch  Watercolour Painting

These past couple of years, with my interests and prominence, waning, with time on my hands, I’ve taken to question our/humanity’s purpose, and have come to accept that there seems to be no purpose. Religion has served to avoid chaos, a fantasy that provides hope,  where no hope exists. Shakespeare wrote something to the effect that all the world is a stage, and that we’re all actors with parts to play, but failed to provide a reason for our purpose. As for religious teaching suggesting that procreation is our purpose, well, how has that worked out thus far. Procreation unchecked has only served to provide fodder for unending wars,  and to rob the Earth of its resources creating chaos…... with the worst yet to come. And then there’s A.I.. What purpose. Perhaps A.I., its concept, is the seed of alien visitors with purpose. Perhaps A.I. will become the link to the God that we’ve been seeking, but its purpose, although maybe our purpose, will never be known. So, that said, accepted, understood, having no purpose, perhaps we should simply use the gift of our time enjoying, experiencing, what’s left of Nature’s bounty. 

 Chistmas 2024

Christmas 2024,

it seems that we’ve all been naughty,

not nice, as Santa Claus,

possessing great wisdom, has revealed,

should the BBC discouraging 

morning news headlines be any indication, 

that our Christmas gift deserves to be no more 

than a lump of coal, 

and that the world 

has become a place 

that few, if any,

adore……

What are we to do?

What can we do?

Nothing it seems, but 

live out our dream,

a selfish existence, 

a fantasy thought ,

and join hands with others of like

awaiting, what we believe our reality, 

when our reality 

nothing more than a dream.

When will we wake up?

When will we accept that 

the path that we, 

humanity,

 follows, 

was never meant, 

and that purpose assumed, 

simply purpose presumed, 

as our purpose , has no purpose, 

other than to give purpose

to another, 

with purpose.

When will we accept that, 

we are trapped on a spinning top

our purpose to aid purpose 

to something with purpose, 

even it shall never know.

All dreams end, 

and so too will ours, 

once purpose,

our purpose,

no purpose ,

served.

OF NOTE: The Red-breasted Nuthatch illustrated above, is becoming rare here in Central Ontario, and is a victim of our ever expanding urban population. Once quite common they've been displaced by the White-breasted Nuthatch as habitat is lost, surviving habitat becomes overcrowded, causing species to be displaced by those larger and stronger. Many species are feeling pressure by our  believed need to continue to procreate, without purpose known.