2016 01 01
While drinking rain that falls from hands of trees
I toss the crystal jewel of secret wisdom,
wait for it to transform to plastic frisbee,
then swing my flying broom and knock it out
front door of my house by Seattle park
so gliding drone of my omniscient eye
descends from flat-top pyramid of power
and sprinkles apple seeds in our back yard.
Keep up with me as we explore this maze
of discarded archetypes Plato lost
because that righteous key you need to find,
that will unlock the attic of your dreams,
where you lost documents and photographs
all our ancestors left after they died,
grows embedded in the oak tree of truth
where White Raven recites the alphabet.
Tall blind woman in white gown of pure light
descends from moon palace on wings of rain,
and whispers, "You must journey in dark woods,
following endless labyrinth of signs,
and stumble clueless in the brave new world,
transfixed by its splendor and glamour, but,
realize sinister forces are at work,
then you will wrestle with your inner fears
to find the one dark but life-giving secret
that will help you retrieve the sweet elixir
which will give you courage, wisdom, and strength
to fight the Beast of Existential Horror
and restore happiness of ignorance
that keeps subservient people of the kingdom
obedient to the mortal man who plays
king appointed by invisible God."
I play chase in labyrinth of broken doors
where mad ghosts of my repressed memories
howl at me with voices of blustering wind
because they are nothing more than torn sheets
flapping in wind storm that swirls lonely moors
captured in the painting that hangs on walls
of famous galleries London to Rome,
but always lead me back to Wonderland.
Thirteen generations since I arrived
across storm-blasted sea of lost Atlantis,
my ancestors wandered town to town,
raising children who married and moved on
one hundred miles west to another land,
so I stand on mountain in Oregon
and gaze back east over ten thousand years,
wondering what forgotten quest leads us lost.
I climb stairway to heaven in Uruk
and stand before Ishtar on ziggurat
constructed from the skulls of all my fathers,
and ask my one eternal mother why
she sent us west, and she smiles from my eyes,
then sings, "Go find the far edge of the world
and discover where the sun goes at night,"
so I explain, "The spinning Earth is round."
I went so far west to the end of time
I followed the sun to where it will rise,
so I return to home where I began
to stand on ancient ziggurat of song
and hold her smiling skull in my left hand
while I compose blueprint for new religion
in epic tale with symphony of voices
that explains well how God was born and died.
On field of flowers where first oak tree grows
within ring of stones on Avalon Island
surrounded by roses, lilies, and grape vines,
I see Sun King wield wand of changing fire
and Moon Queen wield cup of refreshing water
who mate, so his seed and her egg combined
incubate nine moons till my body forms
and I rise as their bodies decompose.
I return home but find I have no home
for my ancestors never stayed in place,
and always journeyed to another land,
so I sit mute by lake of singing stars
alone with no one but their waiting ghosts
and write down all their names in Book of Life
complete with stories of forgotten quest
because the secret that I found is obvious.