Indifferent Blast Of Nature
© Surazeus
2018 04 03
Our homes we build of red brick baked from mud,
dug from flowing river of memories,
stand so fragile against the vast blue sky
in shy defiance of transforming time.
The acrimony of our constant struggle
to maintain fragile flame of conscious life
in the blank face of glib divinity
drives us to excoriate blinding faith.
We lie together on face of the Earth,
dreading the storm we are sure will soon crack
complacent sky and drench us in despair,
imagining destruction of our truth.
We build this calm productive life of hope
through daily cycle of active construction
to drive economic engine of wealth
so we can eat nurturing meals of love.
Yet ever vigilant for storms of war
we heed ominous signs of augury
that signal forces of destruction swirl
unleashed from mountain caves of raging death.
How often we accuse fierce deities,
we cannot see with clear observant eyes,
of blasting storms in floods that smash our homes
from anger at our deeds of selfish gain.
Yet now that we observe wild flashing storms
with calculus of measuring instruments
we must conclude that swirling clouds of atoms
express no consciousness of vile intent.
No angry god dwells in huge thundering clouds
nor hurls bright thunderbolts of rage at man,
so we shelter in fragile homes we build
to observe the indifferent blast of nature.
© Surazeus
2018 04 03
Our homes we build of red brick baked from mud,
dug from flowing river of memories,
stand so fragile against the vast blue sky
in shy defiance of transforming time.
The acrimony of our constant struggle
to maintain fragile flame of conscious life
in the blank face of glib divinity
drives us to excoriate blinding faith.
We lie together on face of the Earth,
dreading the storm we are sure will soon crack
complacent sky and drench us in despair,
imagining destruction of our truth.
We build this calm productive life of hope
through daily cycle of active construction
to drive economic engine of wealth
so we can eat nurturing meals of love.
Yet ever vigilant for storms of war
we heed ominous signs of augury
that signal forces of destruction swirl
unleashed from mountain caves of raging death.
How often we accuse fierce deities,
we cannot see with clear observant eyes,
of blasting storms in floods that smash our homes
from anger at our deeds of selfish gain.
Yet now that we observe wild flashing storms
with calculus of measuring instruments
we must conclude that swirling clouds of atoms
express no consciousness of vile intent.
No angry god dwells in huge thundering clouds
nor hurls bright thunderbolts of rage at man,
so we shelter in fragile homes we build
to observe the indifferent blast of nature.
No comments:
Post a Comment