Bubbles Of Frail Light
© Surazeus
2018 05 24
We humans are like bubbles of frail light
who appear from this sea of molecules
to exist for one brief moment of time
when the Earth spins around the blazing sun
some few dozen times in vast void of space,
then vanish into nothingness of death
as if we had never been here at all.
How hard we work to build strong legacy
of our existence in children we make
and raise to maintain our rituals of living,
or in things we create with our hands
like gardens, walls, cities, stories, or laws,
that may still exist long after we die,
yet they too will vanish in turn of time.
So why should I make friends with anyone
who could sparkle bright with beautiful soul
that would enchant my heart with generous love
if they but disappear and break my heart,
except that, since this frail life we enjoy
burns out so quickly, we should savor well
each moment we find ourselves still alive?
Every day that I wake from foggy dreams
to emerge from gloom and stand in bright rays
of conscious awareness of my strange self
and the marvelous world of seething forms
in which we swim, consuming and consumed,
I rejoice that infinite nothingness
has not yet swallowed me down into death.
How strange that so many people who lived
on this spinning world for thousands of years,
before I was born and gaze this bright hour
on the landscape of their lost memories,
left behind in stories of gods and heroes
how they perceived themselves within this world
so I can see them still play out their dramas.
With every generation that goes by
we know more about all the past who lived
and understand more clearly this strange game
of social drama we perform to choose
what role we play in hierarchy of power
which regulates who eats and copulates
to generate new children from our dreams.
Without stopping to question my own role
I played the ancient game of learn and love
to comprehend the nature of our world
regulated by mindless laws of physics
and apply my hands toward the code of craft
to create action through the flow of atoms
which spawned children to follow my example.
In choir of voices everybody speaks
I hear consistent visions of their thoughts
expressing complex concepts of perception
through astute analysis to decide
how to live well with creative progression
that motivates our motion toward that heaven
of this good world we desire to create.
Thus I encode through strict elegant verse
conceptual paradigm my culture dreams
which calculates actions of moral justice
to guide our behavior through interaction
with other people we meet in the maze
of flashing illusions beamed from our eyes
so we sing together in choir of creation.
We hold hands and leap along rainbow bridge
of assumptions and desires which our hearts
express in beams of logistic concepts
woven into psychological dome
of crystal perceptions which mirrors eyes
of our brains that blind us to the real world,
and will vanish from our dreams when we die.
The stories and poems we compose from words
printed on paper bound in volume books
outlast everything we make with our hands,
even vast cities of computer networks
that now connect everyone on our planet
in single consciousness of flashing visions
to form frail bubble of one world mind.
Though we are fragile and will disappear,
buried under mountains, swallowed by seas,
and smashed into smithereens by stray comets,
we must shine now with the songs of our hearts
expressing the joy of our consciousness
so we achieve the best we can imagine
to glow with love in the infinite void.
© Surazeus
2018 05 24
We humans are like bubbles of frail light
who appear from this sea of molecules
to exist for one brief moment of time
when the Earth spins around the blazing sun
some few dozen times in vast void of space,
then vanish into nothingness of death
as if we had never been here at all.
How hard we work to build strong legacy
of our existence in children we make
and raise to maintain our rituals of living,
or in things we create with our hands
like gardens, walls, cities, stories, or laws,
that may still exist long after we die,
yet they too will vanish in turn of time.
So why should I make friends with anyone
who could sparkle bright with beautiful soul
that would enchant my heart with generous love
if they but disappear and break my heart,
except that, since this frail life we enjoy
burns out so quickly, we should savor well
each moment we find ourselves still alive?
Every day that I wake from foggy dreams
to emerge from gloom and stand in bright rays
of conscious awareness of my strange self
and the marvelous world of seething forms
in which we swim, consuming and consumed,
I rejoice that infinite nothingness
has not yet swallowed me down into death.
How strange that so many people who lived
on this spinning world for thousands of years,
before I was born and gaze this bright hour
on the landscape of their lost memories,
left behind in stories of gods and heroes
how they perceived themselves within this world
so I can see them still play out their dramas.
With every generation that goes by
we know more about all the past who lived
and understand more clearly this strange game
of social drama we perform to choose
what role we play in hierarchy of power
which regulates who eats and copulates
to generate new children from our dreams.
Without stopping to question my own role
I played the ancient game of learn and love
to comprehend the nature of our world
regulated by mindless laws of physics
and apply my hands toward the code of craft
to create action through the flow of atoms
which spawned children to follow my example.
In choir of voices everybody speaks
I hear consistent visions of their thoughts
expressing complex concepts of perception
through astute analysis to decide
how to live well with creative progression
that motivates our motion toward that heaven
of this good world we desire to create.
Thus I encode through strict elegant verse
conceptual paradigm my culture dreams
which calculates actions of moral justice
to guide our behavior through interaction
with other people we meet in the maze
of flashing illusions beamed from our eyes
so we sing together in choir of creation.
We hold hands and leap along rainbow bridge
of assumptions and desires which our hearts
express in beams of logistic concepts
woven into psychological dome
of crystal perceptions which mirrors eyes
of our brains that blind us to the real world,
and will vanish from our dreams when we die.
The stories and poems we compose from words
printed on paper bound in volume books
outlast everything we make with our hands,
even vast cities of computer networks
that now connect everyone on our planet
in single consciousness of flashing visions
to form frail bubble of one world mind.
Though we are fragile and will disappear,
buried under mountains, swallowed by seas,
and smashed into smithereens by stray comets,
we must shine now with the songs of our hearts
expressing the joy of our consciousness
so we achieve the best we can imagine
to glow with love in the infinite void.
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