Process Of Material Forms
© Surazeus
2018 04 10
Though I am conscious in this shell of flesh,
one tiny cluster of bright molecules
flickering in the infinite void of love,
I feel my soul part of the Great White Whole.
Though I am complete in myself alone,
one individual in the sea of souls
competing to consume the blooming light,
I join with others in the group to live.
We work together in small companies,
each person performing their talent role
to generate material of desire
that nourishes the function of our souls.
We process dirt through energy of plants
so we consume their particles for food,
because plants transform sunlight into fruit,
thus we drink sunlight in nutritious juice.
When I see people lost in the waste land,
starving for rich material of the Earth,
I lead them to the orchard of fruit trees
where we feast on love and share tales of life.
The girl and the boy share glances of trust,
then make love to generate the new child
who grows up learning the ways of the tribe,
how we tend plants to maintain rites of love.
We cannot return to lush paradise
when we were small tribes in vast wilderness,
fighting cruel monsters and tending fruit trees,
but dream of that garden glows in our brains.
Over ten thousand years of brutal wars
to control rich resources of the Earth
we build global food-production machine
that generates biomass for consumption.
We mine minerals and farm crops from the dirt,
mold them to things and food in factories,
transport them in trucks on roads to each store,
and buy them with credit we earn from jobs.
Each person plays their role in the machine
composed of companies processing matter
with owners of land and means of production
hiring workers to process goods with hands.
The boss of every group plays role of God,
the person with grand vision of the plan
assigning each person their role to play
to reward equal work with equal pay.
There are different ways we choose who plays God,
accepting the one who makes good decisions,
bowing to the one who kills opposition,
or electing the one who talks the best.
Companies form to provide what we need,
banks fund their operations through each year,
governments adjudicate their disputes,
and schools teach children how to perform roles.
What is the point of working just to eat,
slaving forty years in factory or office
just to watch television and drink beer,
and grow old, too tired to have fun, then die?
How can we balance time we spend each day
working for the company to earn pay
then relaxing at home to sing and play
with our children in the garden of fruit?
Each person plays both predator and prey
competing to survive in game of life
over who gets to eat and breed more children,
and who plays God in the rituals of power.
The strongest and the wisest will survive
to breed children who play the game again
through endless process of material forms
as we evolve monkey to man to god.
I sit alone inside this shell of flesh
and dream the history of our spinning world,
singing in the infinite void of truth
so I become part of the Great White Whole.
© Surazeus
2018 04 10
Though I am conscious in this shell of flesh,
one tiny cluster of bright molecules
flickering in the infinite void of love,
I feel my soul part of the Great White Whole.
Though I am complete in myself alone,
one individual in the sea of souls
competing to consume the blooming light,
I join with others in the group to live.
We work together in small companies,
each person performing their talent role
to generate material of desire
that nourishes the function of our souls.
We process dirt through energy of plants
so we consume their particles for food,
because plants transform sunlight into fruit,
thus we drink sunlight in nutritious juice.
When I see people lost in the waste land,
starving for rich material of the Earth,
I lead them to the orchard of fruit trees
where we feast on love and share tales of life.
The girl and the boy share glances of trust,
then make love to generate the new child
who grows up learning the ways of the tribe,
how we tend plants to maintain rites of love.
We cannot return to lush paradise
when we were small tribes in vast wilderness,
fighting cruel monsters and tending fruit trees,
but dream of that garden glows in our brains.
Over ten thousand years of brutal wars
to control rich resources of the Earth
we build global food-production machine
that generates biomass for consumption.
We mine minerals and farm crops from the dirt,
mold them to things and food in factories,
transport them in trucks on roads to each store,
and buy them with credit we earn from jobs.
Each person plays their role in the machine
composed of companies processing matter
with owners of land and means of production
hiring workers to process goods with hands.
The boss of every group plays role of God,
the person with grand vision of the plan
assigning each person their role to play
to reward equal work with equal pay.
There are different ways we choose who plays God,
accepting the one who makes good decisions,
bowing to the one who kills opposition,
or electing the one who talks the best.
Companies form to provide what we need,
banks fund their operations through each year,
governments adjudicate their disputes,
and schools teach children how to perform roles.
What is the point of working just to eat,
slaving forty years in factory or office
just to watch television and drink beer,
and grow old, too tired to have fun, then die?
How can we balance time we spend each day
working for the company to earn pay
then relaxing at home to sing and play
with our children in the garden of fruit?
Each person plays both predator and prey
competing to survive in game of life
over who gets to eat and breed more children,
and who plays God in the rituals of power.
The strongest and the wisest will survive
to breed children who play the game again
through endless process of material forms
as we evolve monkey to man to god.
I sit alone inside this shell of flesh
and dream the history of our spinning world,
singing in the infinite void of truth
so I become part of the Great White Whole.
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