Choir Of One Mind
© Surazeus
2018 05 04
Though terrible war of bullets and bombs
destroys everything we build with our hands
we will clear away the rubble of ruins
and start again, planting seeds in the soil.
I sit by the lake and stare at the water
where the words of ten thousand songs I wrote
flicker from the flash of eternal sunlight
that glow long before and long after me.
All I want to do this warm afternoon
is sit in the boat drifting in the breeze
and feel the sweet aching throb of my heart
that pulses with the energy of atoms.
Billions of people work hard every day,
performing their function in the machine
of our global economy that funds
production and distribution of food.
We sit under the ancient Tree of Life,
eating apples in the warm vernal breeze,
and share the stories we experience
to understand the process of existence.
At least we used to do that, long ago
at the dawn of our human consciousness,
but now we drive to the place where we work
and perform our actions of wealth creation.
Then after we work most of the daylight
we drive to our small isolated homes
and sit alone before computer screens,
chatting in the world wide web of One Mind.
Just as I feel the frail light of my soul
almost flicker out in winds of despair
the Muse Kalliope appears from flash
of Cosmic Light to kiss me with new hope.
She tells that while I am still alive
I should continue to sing magic spells
that beam the light of energetic atoms
with conscious love in the vast void of death.
The more people around our spinning globe
sing the bright visions of their aching hearts,
the more the beacon of our conscious brains
illuminates our maze of hungry hope.
Then through the darkness of destructive storm
I hear the chanting of the vatic voice
so I join the circle of dancing poets
following Orpheus and Ginsberg through Hell.
One million poets all around our globe
sing together in the Choir of One Mind
and though Death swallows voices of our souls
all our children will continue to sing.
© Surazeus
2018 05 04
Though terrible war of bullets and bombs
destroys everything we build with our hands
we will clear away the rubble of ruins
and start again, planting seeds in the soil.
I sit by the lake and stare at the water
where the words of ten thousand songs I wrote
flicker from the flash of eternal sunlight
that glow long before and long after me.
All I want to do this warm afternoon
is sit in the boat drifting in the breeze
and feel the sweet aching throb of my heart
that pulses with the energy of atoms.
Billions of people work hard every day,
performing their function in the machine
of our global economy that funds
production and distribution of food.
We sit under the ancient Tree of Life,
eating apples in the warm vernal breeze,
and share the stories we experience
to understand the process of existence.
At least we used to do that, long ago
at the dawn of our human consciousness,
but now we drive to the place where we work
and perform our actions of wealth creation.
Then after we work most of the daylight
we drive to our small isolated homes
and sit alone before computer screens,
chatting in the world wide web of One Mind.
Just as I feel the frail light of my soul
almost flicker out in winds of despair
the Muse Kalliope appears from flash
of Cosmic Light to kiss me with new hope.
She tells that while I am still alive
I should continue to sing magic spells
that beam the light of energetic atoms
with conscious love in the vast void of death.
The more people around our spinning globe
sing the bright visions of their aching hearts,
the more the beacon of our conscious brains
illuminates our maze of hungry hope.
Then through the darkness of destructive storm
I hear the chanting of the vatic voice
so I join the circle of dancing poets
following Orpheus and Ginsberg through Hell.
One million poets all around our globe
sing together in the Choir of One Mind
and though Death swallows voices of our souls
all our children will continue to sing.
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