Man is born dead, and upside down
It is his flesh that wears his crown.
His head, somewhere below his feet
Which, in the air, can’t find the street.
‘The world is wrong!’ We shouted loud,
Our flesh rose up, so strong and proud.
It scratched and climbed on up the soul
The spirit died – was swallowed whole.
And that’s the tale of our beginning,
From dawn to dusk we go on sinning.
Its not our spirit that is above,
To guide our soul in the paths of Love.
But the flesh: man’s mortal beast,
Rides atop the soul in its carnal feast.
In every place and age that he is found,
Man is born dead, and upside down.
Above the realm of beasts – that crude place of our interactions with the earthly – abide the higher realms of the mind, and yet further above this, the heavens.
I had now begun in the flesh of this beast, which was my temple, my carrying case, my vehicle (if you will) in the physical realm of earth, and dust. And as surely as this body had its own wants and desires, yet now I was aware of the life within – that higher plane of the heavens. And so now, I was torn, for above the heavens did draw me to an higher level of holiness, but below, my beast did draw me to pleasures.
Somewhere between these (flesh, and spirit) was the breath of life, which like glue, held these things together. For before I was reborn, I did walk always and naturally after the ways of my lower beast. It lusted, and so my mind sought ways to fulfill its desires, so my mind was made subject to my flesh. Now this is the way of beasts with a lower degree of intellect than man – but equally, it is the way of man who has not been born from above.
Yet now the Seed within, that spiritual creation which planted within me did seek for spiritual waters. And so my soul was in a strait between two appetites. The one was old, and matured – my flesh which I was wont to gratify in times past. The other was young, and tender – my reborn spirit, the Seed of Truth, which sought to be fed that it may grow and thrive.
And who was the servant of these two opposing appetites (the carnal, and the heavenly)? My soul: my mind, my feelings, my willpower did find itself in a tug-of-war between the earthly desires of my flesh, and the heavenly desires of my spirit.
Heretofore, my soul has been mastered by the flesh, and is in the habit of lending its service to gratify it; and the spirit is young, and weak, the voice of its cravings are not yet strong in me. I can feel them, and oh, how blessed I am, and the immensity of the reward I experience when I feed it, rather (for he that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall also abide under the shadow of the Almighty!) – but it is not my habit to do so.
When my body desires something, that craving is loud and clear; I am hungry: there is pain in my stomach, my flesh is so demanding that it causes me pain. My young spirit gently whispers of peace. Which appetite is louder? Which will I feed?
My belligerent flesh assails me, and screams in my ears – my spirit gently tugs on my sleeve.