It’s hard to be human in a world that rejects the concept of humanity.
We meet hostility before humility.
We fight over space, before we create it.
How many boxes can human minds create before we suffocate, cease to exist?
How does one perceive higher intelligence?
There is no measurement,
For intelligence is acceptance…
Accepting the things we cannot change,
For after all we are human.

Who is your maker?
We made ourselves, so they say.
So why can’t we change ourselves?
Why can’t the Deepak’s and the Oprah’s deal with the deep matters of the mind.
Still trying, defining, living our nearsighted visions
Falling haplessly into hyper realities
We enjoy short lived tales on the backs of constructed fallacies
Those who have eyes? Why can’t they see?

History is alive, when I live it inside of me

Yet there is still a "rock a tree and a river" Maya Angelou

It is possible, they teach us more than we wish to discern.
We are a fortunate species, not robots.
We can sit for years contemplating the obvious.
We can ask for answers when there already provided.
We can keep fighting the things we won’t win
We can still try to be ruler while we are being ruled
And still question humanity when we are human.

We could carefully plan or courses.
Peregrinate upon rich soil that we never laid.
Drink water from those rivers that we never made.
See beauty in things we didn’t design
Take fruits of the field, and make ourselves wine.

To be human, then, is quite strange

And if you never listened, never heard, never cried
Never seen, never thought, never tasted,
Never felt,
Then perhaps you are not.