Kiss In Sparkling Rain
© Surazeus
2017 06 14
The vast infinity of outer space
shrinks to a raindrop shining in my hand
when I survey the web of inner space
that sparkles in the neurons of my brain.
I see reflected in my human face
weird mindless contours of our global land
for all the journeys of our human race
are mapped in our skin carved by sun and rain.
I see the journey your ancestors wove
across the landscape of our spinning world
when I gaze in rich fabric of your eye
and read the tapestry of all their lives.
Our mothers are magicians of the stove
who brew love from abyss where death is hurled
so we dance and sing under empty sky
then build garden homes for our clever wives.
I climb tall tangled apple tree at dawn
to fight serpent of lies for sacred fruit,
then scatter seeds in soil of desert waste
to tend New Haven on wild nameless shore.
Though every king was once a childish pawn
we sing hymns while Ishtar plays her bone flute
because blind prophet who returns in haste
is stuck now in the timeless mirror door.
I am no master of the social game,
so I alone in tower with skulls of kings
record ancient history of human gain
how one-eyed soul evolves to World Wide God.
So every year I design my new name
and fly back to Heaven on false owl wings
where I drink mushroom wine to numb the pain
that shows belief in afterlife is odd.
Our eyes perceive atomic beings of light,
then tongue words conjure visions of Ideas,
so brains beam models of one universe
reflecting structure in vast web of quarks.
Construction and destruction define right
though obfuscated by lies from Nicaeas
where man worshipped as God, who suffers curse
of wisdom, plays Jester in public parks.
Since Temple of Truth our ancestors built
crumbles to ruins of devised world view,
and national gods struggle to rule whole globe,
we huddle in shadows of small church walls.
The Fairy Queen who came to cleanse our guilt
stormed power pyramid with victorious crew,
but mad King Midas wearing golden robe
drove her from Heaven with exploding balls.
She wanders in grim wilderness of hope,
lead by the Light-Maker of obvious truth,
and bears the sword of justice under law
who will defeat the tyrant without crown.
Meanwhile we foolish mortals learn to cope
by teaching new ontology to youth
who design strong world view from facts not straw
that build communities in each small town.
When I speak I in song of every soul
I refer not to self in shell of flesh
for we are God in ten billion brains
since we were born from one First Mother Mind.
Though alone I am part of one great whole,
so my dreams shine from universal mesh
that guides our actions with archetype reins
when we play roles that no preacher can find.
All churches of the world may join as one
for all present as heroes of mankind
mortals who comprehend nature of things
then create not destroy in game of love.
Emerging from dark churches to the sun,
we share many stories to weave one Mind,
and gather to feast when First Mother sings
how we make Heaven here and not above.
Though mortal men contend for who plays God
each person who breathes atoms of the air
awakens immortal consciousness bright
within galactic neurons of their brain.
So know that you are God and I am God,
composed of atoms swirling every where,
and we are bodies woven from sunlight
who kiss together in the sparkling rain.
© Surazeus
2017 06 14
The vast infinity of outer space
shrinks to a raindrop shining in my hand
when I survey the web of inner space
that sparkles in the neurons of my brain.
I see reflected in my human face
weird mindless contours of our global land
for all the journeys of our human race
are mapped in our skin carved by sun and rain.
I see the journey your ancestors wove
across the landscape of our spinning world
when I gaze in rich fabric of your eye
and read the tapestry of all their lives.
Our mothers are magicians of the stove
who brew love from abyss where death is hurled
so we dance and sing under empty sky
then build garden homes for our clever wives.
I climb tall tangled apple tree at dawn
to fight serpent of lies for sacred fruit,
then scatter seeds in soil of desert waste
to tend New Haven on wild nameless shore.
Though every king was once a childish pawn
we sing hymns while Ishtar plays her bone flute
because blind prophet who returns in haste
is stuck now in the timeless mirror door.
I am no master of the social game,
so I alone in tower with skulls of kings
record ancient history of human gain
how one-eyed soul evolves to World Wide God.
So every year I design my new name
and fly back to Heaven on false owl wings
where I drink mushroom wine to numb the pain
that shows belief in afterlife is odd.
Our eyes perceive atomic beings of light,
then tongue words conjure visions of Ideas,
so brains beam models of one universe
reflecting structure in vast web of quarks.
Construction and destruction define right
though obfuscated by lies from Nicaeas
where man worshipped as God, who suffers curse
of wisdom, plays Jester in public parks.
Since Temple of Truth our ancestors built
crumbles to ruins of devised world view,
and national gods struggle to rule whole globe,
we huddle in shadows of small church walls.
The Fairy Queen who came to cleanse our guilt
stormed power pyramid with victorious crew,
but mad King Midas wearing golden robe
drove her from Heaven with exploding balls.
She wanders in grim wilderness of hope,
lead by the Light-Maker of obvious truth,
and bears the sword of justice under law
who will defeat the tyrant without crown.
Meanwhile we foolish mortals learn to cope
by teaching new ontology to youth
who design strong world view from facts not straw
that build communities in each small town.
When I speak I in song of every soul
I refer not to self in shell of flesh
for we are God in ten billion brains
since we were born from one First Mother Mind.
Though alone I am part of one great whole,
so my dreams shine from universal mesh
that guides our actions with archetype reins
when we play roles that no preacher can find.
All churches of the world may join as one
for all present as heroes of mankind
mortals who comprehend nature of things
then create not destroy in game of love.
Emerging from dark churches to the sun,
we share many stories to weave one Mind,
and gather to feast when First Mother sings
how we make Heaven here and not above.
Though mortal men contend for who plays God
each person who breathes atoms of the air
awakens immortal consciousness bright
within galactic neurons of their brain.
So know that you are God and I am God,
composed of atoms swirling every where,
and we are bodies woven from sunlight
who kiss together in the sparkling rain.
There is a drop of of our morning
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