I walk on the City of Man in today`s hot summer, breathe the soot of the man-made air, snap the sky bloating out my eyes, hear the metallic noise, the deafening silence of the nature`s voice, the groan of the mother earth rendered sterile by cement and asbestos,or by the rising houses of God and Man.
Walking on the City of Man in today`s hot summer, I see Man himself in his homes and churches, fanned by his own creative luxuries- to paint the soot into cold breeze, the sky into a heaven-blue, the metallic noise into the classical music, and the groaning earth into a transient habitat of alien flowers and orchids.
While on the other street in the City of Man in today`s hot summer, I see the other man without his native fan or native roof, not even a muffler to defend his lungs from the soot, neither the pure nature`s voice to render music to his ears nor a portion of the mother earth to work with for his native food.
And the Man in the City of Man continues to build his houses and the houses for his God, and the other man in the City of Man stands as the other man cheaper than the houses of God and Man.
|
|