Apples On Trees In Autumn

Apples On Trees In Autumn
© Surazeus
2017 11 16

The wild waves of the ocean always know
the secrets of our souls we try to hide.
Since everyone alive can walk on water
now we should carve new commandments on tablets
of bone extricated from skulls of giants.
Now everyone sings in poetic verse,
explaining why stars sparkle in our cells.

Whenever Christians say Jesus is God,
and praise him as the most important man
who ever lived in the history of life,
I laugh, and wipe away one small tear.
I think about the innumerable people,
countless billions of lost and nameless people
who lived and died the past ten thousand years,
who were enslaved and abused by the masters
of the universe, people who were killed
in thousands of wars to dominate Earth,
who crowd around me as mute ghosts of hope
and beg me to sing about their tale of woe.
I think about them and wonder why Christians
worship as god one from billions of people
who lived on this globe of water and dirt
that spins nowhere in the empty abyss.

It would take me ten million spins of Earth
around the blazing sun of helium atoms
to sing the whole tale of every lost soul,
yet all their names glow in atoms of water.
Drink this water and taste all their lost dreams.

I walk ankle-deep in wild ocean waves
and listen to their endless song of facts
that reveals how we rose from womb of Earth
and walk now her fecund valleys of love.
Nothing anyone ever claims as true
is true except apples on trees in Autumn.