“REFLECTIONS”

"REFLECTIONS”
(September 11th, 2001)

(Excerpt From the novel “The Witching Hour” by Anne Rice © 1990)
[Edited and Arranged by DAMUN® 2001]

The whole hellish spectacle
was drawn from my childhood fears
and dreads...
to create a hell for me
that would keep me dead,
drowned
and in despair.

If his plan had worked,
I would have really died,
of course,
and his vision of hell
would have vanished
and maybe,
just maybe,
in some life after,
I would have found
the true explanation.

It's difficult to think
about that last part however.
Because I didn't die.
And what I have now
is a chance to stop...
simply by being alive
and being here.

... accept this I do not.

And it isn't only
that I don't believe it.
I can't.

I can't believe it
because my reason tells me
that such a system,
in which anyone dictates
our every move –
be it a god,
or a devil,
or our subconscious mind,
or our tyrannical genes –
is simply impossible.

Life itself
must be founded upon
the infinite possibility
for choice and accident.
And if we cannot prove that it is,
we must believe that it is.
We must believe
that we can change,
that we can control,
that we can direct
our own destinies.

... I refuse to judge...
The rage I felt...
is now gone.

And I choose
of my own free will
to stay here
waiting...
and believing...

That belief...
is the tenet of my credo.
And no matter how enormous
and intricate
this web of events seems,
no matter how much
it is like the patterns of flags
and balustrades
and repetitive cast iron
on this little plot of earth.
I maintain my credo.

I believe in Free Will,
the Force Almighty,
by which we conduct ourselves
as if we were the sons and daughters
of a just and wise God,
even if there is no such Supreme Being.
And by free will
we can choose to do good on this earth
no matter that we all die
and do not know where we go
when we die
or if a justice,
or explanation awaits us.

I believe
that we can through our reason,
know what good is
and in the communion of men and women
in which the forgiveness of wrongs
will always be more significant
than the avenging of them
and that in the beautiful,
natural world that surrounds us
we represent the best
and the finest of beings
for we alone
can see that natural beauty,
appreciate it,
learn from it,
weep for it
and seek to conserve it
and protect it.

I believe...
that we are the only true moral force
in the physical world
the makers of ethics
and moral ideas
and that we must be as good
as the gods we've created in the past
to guide us.

I believe
that through our finest efforts,
we will succeed finally
in creating heaven on earth
and we do it
every time that we love,
every time that we embrace,
every time that we commit to create
rather than destroy,
every time that we place life over death
and the natural over what is unnatural,
insofar as we are able to define it.

And I suppose I do believe
in the final analysis
that a peace of mind
can be obtained
in the face of the worst horrors
and the worst losses.
It can be obtained
by faith in change,
and in will,
and in accident,
and by faith in ourselves;
that we will do the right thing
more often than not
in the face of adversity.

For ours is the power and the glory
because we are capable of visions
and ideas
which are ultimately greater
than we are.

That is my credo,
that is why I believe
in my interpretation...

But it's my belief,
for what it's worth
and it sustains me.
And if I were to die right now,
I wouldn't be afraid.
Because I can't believe
that horror
or chaos awaits us.

If any revelation
awaits us at all
it must be as good
as our ideals
and our best philosophy.
For surely nature
must embrace the visible
and the invisible
and it couldn't fall short of us.
The thing that makes the flowers open
and the snowflakes fall,
must contain a wisdom
and a final secret
as intricate
and beautiful
as the blooming camellia
or the clouds gathering above
so white and pure
in the blackness.

If that isn't so
then we are in the grip
of a staggering irony.
And all the spooks of hell
might as well dance...
There could be a devil.
People who burn other people to death are fine.
There could be anything.

But the world is simply too beautiful for that.
At least it seems that way to me
as I sit here now...

Only our capacity for goodness
is as fine as the silken breeze...
as fine as the scent of the rain
just beginning to fall
with a faint roar
as it strikes the shimmering leaves,
so gentle,
gentle as the vision
of the rain itself
strung like silver
through the fabric
of the embracing darkness.

November 11th, 2001