The Prout Research Institute of Venezuela

2nd Prize: "A Sharer of Flowers and Poems"
[translated from the original Spanish, “Un repartidor de flores y poemas”]

by José Parada (Venezuela)

The day finally came when man decided once and for all for all to live in peace with himself, in harmony with his equals and in harmony with nature. The honorable and dignified utopian society for human beings from another epoch finally saw the light of day.

Its origins date far back to the days when men went to war and found their pleasure in wickedness.

Let us go back in time to the first years of the Twenty First Century. Don't be surprised: man at the time accomplished the impossible in achieving his personal well-being. After satisfying his basic needs the worm of greed took him to unsuspected limits and he went to any lengths in order to possess all, including what he had no need for whatsoever. An enormous, unquenchable, disproportionate thirst characterized man, strange and pathological: the more he hoarded, the greater his desire grew. A dominant individuality made him an easy prey for selfishness, which forced him to become its slave.

One can distinguish two very distinct types of men, antagonistic and complementary at the same time: those that produced without ceasing to take the necessary rest and recuperation period in a strange desire to accumulate wealth unceasingly, and the others, those that consumed almost all that the first category produced with a limitless appetite of the type that instills fear in others. Between these two categories were the forgotten ones, those who did not produce anything because they had no tools and did not own any land due to not having access to an education and a life worthy of human beings. Or because their only investment was the effort to stay alive by struggling for themselves and their families, squashed by powerful exploiters who added to their misery. Among the forgotten were those who consumed very little or nothing, not for lack of want, but because they lacked the means and were forced to take the very life of their offspring if their rulers so decided.

The incorrect decisions of those in power, the wars and other calamities, caused famines and left millions of skeletons in their wake. It was poverty for some – many I should say – and opulence for others, who made up barely one percent of the residents of this vast homeland called Earth. Those lowly ones sustained the ones on top until they were sucked dry and died. Such misery man suffered in those days that later he built a monument to the demon, already vanished, called money. For this demon one country waged war against another, children against their parents, one against others! It was such a strange instrument, an engine disguised to do good, but actually an author of evil.

Those in power controlled the world economies at their whim. They removed and installed leaders, toyed with war, and contaminated the planet with their unscrupulous industries. Their trade of massive exportation made huge profits for a few. They exploited the deprived, they owned huge tracts of idle land and consumed the calories that could have saved many lives… They impeded any chance of redemption by ignoring the sacred principle of love for themselves and their fellow human beings. At the same time the masses subsisted on the bare minimum, or less. Alarming statistics indicated that many didn't have electricity, gas for domestic use or even drinkable water. It is easy to imagine empty pantries waiting for fortunate days that never arrived for many.

Worse luck however befell homeless beggars in the streets and bridges, the abandoned children that learned nothing but wickedness in their young lives, how to survive in cold nights of solitude. Those that lost their lives waiting for miraculous remedies, that took a glass of champagne left on a table, those that left it after their shot of grace, the old people that did so much in their long lives and were forgotten in their decline, the prisoners that tolerated unspeakable injustices done by a society ridden with vices, the innocent lives lost in the wars, the rejected minorities ignored until they suffocated...

In that devastating and sad landscape one day appeared an anonymous dreamer, a poet, a sharer of verses and flowers. He sang the most hopeful songs the likes of which had never been heard before. He went from village to village spreading his message, his happiness and smile. His god was nature; his creed, love and hope; his only word, truth; his guiding star, world peace; his golden rule, to do no harm.

From where he came nobody knew. The boldest were sure that he could only have come from among the humblest and most deprived people. Only noble spirits have known suffering… The most exquisite fruits come from below, from the earth on which we tread … Indeed, our musician, poet, juggler, sharer of verses and flowers was a seed of hope that had endured the abuse of opulence, a messenger that had been confined to the rural lands of a corner of the vast American continent by rich mining exploiters that ate away the bowels of the earth with scruples for neither sorrow nor mother nature.

It is unnatural to see one’s world perish, the trees, the rivers, the air, one’s children and to remain inactive like living dead condemned to watching. No! Our sharer of verses and flowers with words, poems of petals and facts became a wakeup call for consciousness. That is why he roamed the world with his rosary knocking on doors to complete his gospel. Here, there and yonder he rushed, gave discourses and conferences, formed groups, scolded and left.

Then he was no longer alone – there were two, five, a hundred, a thousand, a million… And the forgotten rose from anonymity and totally dedicated themselves to work. They formed cooperatives, groups, societies. People no longer said "me", instead they spoke of "we", finding protection in a just concept of unity. A deep sense of the collective prevailed that redefined the prevalent principles of those days: race, religion, politics and language. While some took on the task of restoring ravaged nature, others cared for the old and for the abandoned children. While some taught others to read and to write, others fought to eradicate the unhealthy vices that destroyed the physical and mental health of people in those days. While honest scientists made efforts to apply their knowledge to benefit humanity, others fought to convince the reticent ones that a more human and fraternal world was possible.

It was imperative to get water to every corner of the planet where souls planted a flower; it was vitally important to feed each mouth that implored food, and to give it with a smile; it was necessary to use science for the benefit of all; it was fundamental that the world wake up and that everybody enlisted his awareness in a new order aided by understanding and human progress in a state of balance, of internal peace and of harmony with the universe.

Regrettably not everything shines as our star king. The threat was felt by the elite, the powerful, the perverse consumers and the uncontrolled producers. The fight was unequal and dishonest. The antlike work done by language teachers, small producers, cooperatives, neighborhood associations, unions, small enterprises, small popular banks, environmentalists and environmental activists, small workers, artisans and laborers was sabotaged without remorse by the powerful and rich managers, by the tentacles of the multinationals and the mean interests of leaders very far removed from the deepest feelings of the communities. The judicial system, carrying vices from the past, focused on innocents and harmed dedicated social fighters. There were many intimidations and death threats, but finally nothing and no one could stop the great revolution of consciousness that had begun with a flower, a poem and a dreamer.

What we have today is his inheritance and that of many others that fought for their children’s children and for this present day, which they called the future. Let us look around us and let us realize with pride that we have overcome the traumas of segregation, of socio-cultural differences that excluded some and slandered others… We learned how to respect ourselves and value our differences in the light of acceptance. We recognize the identity of nations as invaluable. We learn the languages of others to understand them better. We respect their way of thinking because they also respect ours. Offense no longer has a place in our hearts and forgiveness is always our first impulse when we have a moment of weakness. All this has been our biggest progress; we have alleviated the weight of our conscience. The rest has been presented to us: more tranquility, better education, precious houses, healthy food, fast and reliable transport, cleaner air, pure crystalline water, and in general high quality products and services.... Everything is based on the healthy exchange in which we always gain, because the exploiters and the feeble thirst for power were buried a long time ago.

What happened to the dreamer who shared flowers and verses? What happens to the good spirits who leave: one fine day he disappeared. Perhaps he was silenced to terrorize his followers. How mistaken were those who believed that dead poets can't work miracles! When one is free of spirit and mind, fear no longer exists. The memory and the yearnings of those who preceded us, like that sharer of dreams and flowers, became us in the overwhelming force to change this planet into a garden of true human beings.