The Observer Poem by Zach Bielak

I am the Observer.
Occupying the realm between the object and the impression,
Time becomes meaningless, just a measurement of state of mind.
What came before me is nothingness, and what proceeds me is the eternal void.
I exist therefore the world exists. I think therefore you are.
I am the Observer.

Perched upon my ivory tower, I gaze upon the universe.
I see the world burn, be reborn, and rise like the eternal phoenix,
The endless cycle that I am witness to.
Destruction begets creation, and creation leads to destruction.
Like two sides of the same coin, they are inseparable.
Change is constant and inevitable.

The scenes I am surrounded by are destined to repeat.
The same mistakes, old realizations, followed by the slow degradation.
Each generation forgets the lessons learned by those before them,
And casually throws away hard earned wisdom.
But what is wisdom? Is it something that can be taught?
Something that can be grasped from lectures, and analogies?
Where does this wisdom reside?

Are the most valuable lessons in life not those that can be learned only through experience?
The greatest stories are of those who did not shirk their obligations,
But rose to meet them, to conquer not the world, but themselves.
They became worthy of their burdens and led by example.
Wisdom is obtained.

My eyes don’t see the sum. For these eyes are impartial and removed.
They make relations of cause and effect, while never grasping the nature of life.
But my mind goes beyond my five senses,
It attempts to understand others in order to understand itself.
It examines the motives behind all actions, the emotions that drive this mindless cycle.
It realizes that there are no absolutes, just the perspective of truth.

As I record my thoughts, there’s a sense of unity.
Why is it so hard for all the rest to see?
Perhaps...its because I am the Observer.

Are we not all confined to the experiences we have within our minds?
No.
It is within our power to put ourselves in another’s shoes,
To truly see what they are going through.
In a hope that if we can understand, we can finally be understood.
For this is the mission of the dream. The dream we all call reality.

Where does the consciousness reside?
What attaches us to this illusive reality?
Is everyone not in the third perspective to this material world?
Our brains just interpret chemical signals, we never actually feel a thing.
There is no pain, no love, no sadness.
There is just the idea of these things, that we liken to the dream.

I now know that in essence everyone is an observer,
I am not alone.

I lay waste to the ivory tower and destroy my throne.
I ponder how I can tell them, how I can make them see.
To put aside the petty differences, and embrace the similarities.
To gaze upon this world as nothing but a mirror,
To realize that if you truly look, you notice yourself in everything.

We choose our state of mind, fulfill our own desires and destinies.
Contemplate on all you’ve won.
Is it empty with material greed and satisfaction of these needs?
Or did you go a different route, one that fills you with no doubts?
Everything we are is a result of what we have done.
The choices in life are yours alone.

Even when fate binds the tightest, you still have freedom.
Freedom, mans last dying wish.
Freedom to choose how you will react.
Will you rise to the occasion, carry your load with nobility?
Or will you simply suckle on others sympathy, and discard all responsibility?

This is the decision that we are left.
It is up to each of us to decide for ourselves.
Will you be free? Free to see the unity?
Step out of yourself and look upon the world.

You are the observer.
I am merely a Ghost in the Machine.