The Hollow Men

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us — if at all — not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

By T S Eliot, in the "Hollow Men"


Do you sometimes feel hollow? Do you feel that sometimes life seems mundane and meaningless - that there has to be something more? You wish to see beauty in form and shape; enchantment in the myriad shades of colour; purpose in the force of directed motion. I do.

I want to see meaning in this life. I want to give of my energies and efforts to a higher purpose, to a higher cause. I want to bleed for a significant cause; to give my life to a higher love. I'm tired of this hollow, mundane living. I want to see awe and wonder, of a living eternal God at work in every situation, every moment and every person. I want to see the beauty of a life lived for Jesus; I want to see the enchantment in discovering the myriad expression of Love for Christ; I want to see the purpose of His Kingdom come.

I'm homesick. I'm waiting...

I still believe that life has a plot the way a novel has a plot - that events are somehow leading somewhere...

And those who have crossed over, the cloud of witnesses are whispering to me, "Get up, get up and finish the race. Come and take your place."


Ollie
February 2007