2017 03 02
I often brag about the vital fact
that I descend from the Puritan Poet
Anne Bradstreet, Tenth Muse of America,
since vision of her eyes sparkle with light
of love for truth and justice in this world,
dreaming in the tangled web of my brain.
So who would not want to brag with bold pride
about having such an amazing woman
as first mother who generated soul
that animates bright visions of my mind?
Visions of men and women who once lived
these past ten thousand years of human history
flash brilliant on the landscape of my mind,
so I must let my fingers dance on keys
that print ancient letters Cadmus designed
in chanting spells which beam on silver screen
how our ancestors played their roles of power
so we may comprehend process of change
transforming world view that glows in our brains.
Though I wake from forgotten dreams of hope,
and move my body across the landscape
of this simple life I script in dull play,
where I make maps to earn an ample paycheck,
enough to pay for rent, food, gas, and clothes,
the ghost of every soul who ever lived
crowds around me close in the flowing wind
and whispers agon of lost memories
which flash inside my eyes when I doze off.
These ghosts do not exist outside my brain,
for I have conjured their spirits from words
in old history books that record their names
and code in archetypes and surreal myths
the moral principles that program well
cause and effect of their dramatic lives
in religious world view that binds our minds
in single unified concept of truth.
I type to transcribe in perceptive words
visions of human action seeking truth
that flash in beams of light from distant stars
to weave dreams in tangled web of my brain.
Though I may seem to disappear in waves
of endless generations, that swirl swift
in constant reincarnation of souls,
I rise from sea of spirits cleansed of fear
that death will snuff my flame of consciousness,
then sit on flat-top pyramid of Phoebus
to sing tales with Orpheus and Apollo,
presenting epic history of Mankind
that dream in the tangled web of our brains.
We rise from Lake of Dreams at dawn of time
to gather close around the Tree of Life
where we feast long on fruit of fellowship
and share adventures of our quest for truth,
for the souls of our ancestors still live
dreaming in the tangled web of our brains.