Our Journey Forward
© Surazeus
2017 08 17
I feel the history of our human race
flowing through me in a river of song
since we first transformed from the dreamless eye,
and from the deep ocean of swirling waves
we crawled up the river of shining hope
to crouch on the shore of shivering fear.
How clearly I remember looking up
to see the round fruit on the tree of life
illuminated by the golden sun
piercing my heart with hungry ache of love,
and how I plucked it with my grasping hand,
and how its sweet juice simmered in my mouth.
I felt the spinning world inside my breast
explode in gusts of wind that swelled my soul,
and ocean waves throbbed in my fragile skull,
and hot rivers pulsed through my tingling limbs,
and I remember standing on the rock
and stretching my arms to embrace the sky.
But then I shrank down in my fragile shell,
and trembled at the spinning of the world,
and shivered in the long dark formless night,
and dreamed the big bang of the blasting sun
that shaped the mountains and seas from the void
and clumped my mind in this body of flesh.
No name yet did I breathe from gasping grunt
to separate my self from teeming world,
and yet I climbed the highest tree of rage,
longing to fly among light clouds with birds,
and howled into the blustering storm of fear
to capture lightning in my grasping hand.
Alone I gazed at twinkling stars of light,
feasting on fruit at the dawn of dream time,
so when I look around our world today
I see my single soul of dreaming hope
fragmented in seven billion souls
who remember the hour I first woke.
I turn to you and gesture with my hand,
express the sound I assigned as your name,
and lead you forth from our safe cave of dreams
to explore the weird mysteries of our world
and gather food in baskets on our arms
that we consume while sitting by the sea.
Today I stand in bright library hall
and study a large world map on the wall,
then wonder where we first crawled from the sea
to follow the fresh river to the cave,
and where we first climbed into the tree of fruit
to sing in choirs with love to the stars.
How far we swung on vines from tree to tree
in chattering crowds through lofty canopy
from towering peaks of China by the sea,
along the snow-gleaming mountains of India,
and to the lush jungles of Africa
where we came down and walked on upright legs.
We follow the sun that burst from our eyes
and weave the thin golden thread of our souls
into the fabric of this spinning world
as we become its dream of molecules
so all the history of our fight with death
lights our journey forward around the sun.
© Surazeus
2017 08 17
I feel the history of our human race
flowing through me in a river of song
since we first transformed from the dreamless eye,
and from the deep ocean of swirling waves
we crawled up the river of shining hope
to crouch on the shore of shivering fear.
How clearly I remember looking up
to see the round fruit on the tree of life
illuminated by the golden sun
piercing my heart with hungry ache of love,
and how I plucked it with my grasping hand,
and how its sweet juice simmered in my mouth.
I felt the spinning world inside my breast
explode in gusts of wind that swelled my soul,
and ocean waves throbbed in my fragile skull,
and hot rivers pulsed through my tingling limbs,
and I remember standing on the rock
and stretching my arms to embrace the sky.
But then I shrank down in my fragile shell,
and trembled at the spinning of the world,
and shivered in the long dark formless night,
and dreamed the big bang of the blasting sun
that shaped the mountains and seas from the void
and clumped my mind in this body of flesh.
No name yet did I breathe from gasping grunt
to separate my self from teeming world,
and yet I climbed the highest tree of rage,
longing to fly among light clouds with birds,
and howled into the blustering storm of fear
to capture lightning in my grasping hand.
Alone I gazed at twinkling stars of light,
feasting on fruit at the dawn of dream time,
so when I look around our world today
I see my single soul of dreaming hope
fragmented in seven billion souls
who remember the hour I first woke.
I turn to you and gesture with my hand,
express the sound I assigned as your name,
and lead you forth from our safe cave of dreams
to explore the weird mysteries of our world
and gather food in baskets on our arms
that we consume while sitting by the sea.
Today I stand in bright library hall
and study a large world map on the wall,
then wonder where we first crawled from the sea
to follow the fresh river to the cave,
and where we first climbed into the tree of fruit
to sing in choirs with love to the stars.
How far we swung on vines from tree to tree
in chattering crowds through lofty canopy
from towering peaks of China by the sea,
along the snow-gleaming mountains of India,
and to the lush jungles of Africa
where we came down and walked on upright legs.
We follow the sun that burst from our eyes
and weave the thin golden thread of our souls
into the fabric of this spinning world
as we become its dream of molecules
so all the history of our fight with death
lights our journey forward around the sun.
A wonderful journey
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