A
Apotheosis
Guest
Another Country
There is another country, Not far away,
In fact it is very near.
Mental Health Professionals learn all they can about this other country,
Talk to people, its observers and residents, But mostly its observers.
Read books and papers about it,
Attempt to learn its language,
But its borders are closed to most of them,
They cannot visit it.
They meet us at the border.
We tell them about our country,
But they do not believe us.
They say, ”This is not true, it is all delusion.”
But remember, they have never visited our country.
We say there are wonders there,
And horrors too.
Heaven and Hell.
But they do not believe us.
They say, “This is all delusion.”
We have very little industry or commerce in our country.
Only art, fantastic art, insight and our own peculiar wisdom.
They take pity on us.
They give us food and shelter.
But they expect us to obey the rules of their country,
Like some benevolent conqueror.
They want us to learn their industry and commerce,
But this is the death of some of us.
We are far happier producing our fantastic art,
Or simply dreaming.
They would like us to become
Like the residents of their country,
Like them,
But many of us are not interested in playing their games.
We often escape back to our own country,
Where life is easier, less pressured, more inviting.
Then they try to coax us back,
Full of good intentions and well-meaning,
But we are often far happier in our home.
There is another country, Not far away,
In fact it is very near.
By John Excell
There is another country, Not far away,
In fact it is very near.
Mental Health Professionals learn all they can about this other country,
Talk to people, its observers and residents, But mostly its observers.
Read books and papers about it,
Attempt to learn its language,
But its borders are closed to most of them,
They cannot visit it.
They meet us at the border.
We tell them about our country,
But they do not believe us.
They say, ”This is not true, it is all delusion.”
But remember, they have never visited our country.
We say there are wonders there,
And horrors too.
Heaven and Hell.
But they do not believe us.
They say, “This is all delusion.”
We have very little industry or commerce in our country.
Only art, fantastic art, insight and our own peculiar wisdom.
They take pity on us.
They give us food and shelter.
But they expect us to obey the rules of their country,
Like some benevolent conqueror.
They want us to learn their industry and commerce,
But this is the death of some of us.
We are far happier producing our fantastic art,
Or simply dreaming.
They would like us to become
Like the residents of their country,
Like them,
But many of us are not interested in playing their games.
We often escape back to our own country,
Where life is easier, less pressured, more inviting.
Then they try to coax us back,
Full of good intentions and well-meaning,
But we are often far happier in our home.
There is another country, Not far away,
In fact it is very near.
By John Excell
.
