Surviving Our Civil War © Surazeus 2019 02 26 I remember nothing before this hour wrenched me gasping from gloom of aching hope, so I breathe deep fresh wind of silver skies to maintain balance on two trembling legs since broken angel wings dissolve to dust, then I stagger forward, driven by lust. How old is this spinning world of cracked light, I ask the jagged rock on the beach sand who tells me how waves surge in flooding tide in rhythm with the moon that knows my name, so I hide in hollow cave of my heart when alarm bells of anxiety clang. Barrage of cannon fire echoes through woods in rapid pocking of explosive fear to wind taut anguish of my hope for peace that urges coiled heartbeat of my desire designing program for successful work when I descend star mountain with God Spells. My brain envisions weird scenarios presenting what if everything goes wrong to cause destruction of my fragile soul, so I crouch hidden behind tall stone wall of peaceful heaven my father once built, too anxious to explore vast hostile world. What lurking monsters as fierce gangs of men hunt for me in wilderness of desire, I wonder as I peer at moving shadows that haunt silent woods beyond haven walls, but, gripping magic wand of wisdom, I venture through anxious gate of wariness. How bright did this alarm of mental scope shine in ancestors to wake them alert when danger threatened to destroy their lives so that its operations of awareness too keenly blare through meadows of my mind, causing me to see danger everywhere. When alarm of anxiety blares loud, I analyze environment of my state to review nature of my situation, and determine if that danger is real, then adjust stance and progress to ensure safe navigation of this hostile world. I wonder who I am today, so I stand on marge of the silver-sparkling pool and gaze at shimmering image of my face that masks with placid mien of careful faith seething emotions of intent desire to secure strict routine of self-protection. When opposing factions fight civil war in frantic strife of conflated despair to control our national narrative, I dodge snapped conflagration to avoid destruction of my soul integrity and build foundation on truth I can trust. Assembling new world view from shattered shards of truth, discarded by aggressive hordes of frightened men who shoot each other dead, I construct sprawling cathedral of myths that incorporates every god ever worshipped by humans searching for love in the dark. Gripping magic wand of wisdom, I race zinging bullets from howling guns of hate to escape clash of ideologies when religious warriors kill for their god, then wander bruised and battered somewhere lost on signless road through waste land of despair. Huddling among ruins of ancient church, bombed by nationalist aggression for control, I stare at statue of their savior god whose shattered visage gazes down with love at fields of Elysium blasted by war, and feel his loving spirit wake in me. Since our god died two thousand years ago, each man who gains control of social games declares himself anointed by that god to reign with divine right of noble good, but two such men who claim that divine right fight to the death to secure right to rule. I want to live outside their empire games, but gangs of men band together to fight other gangs of men over fertile land so I have to join one gang or the other to keep myself alive till rule of law again prevails to maintain peaceful order. Once loyal to my nation, family tribes descended from our wise ancestral god, I switch adoring focus of my faith to rest on principle of liberty for every person to live as they will with equal justice under noble law. From monarchy in worship of one king, who reigns because his father reigned before, we change dynamic game of politics to fair republican democracy where we the people vote for human being who serves our vast food-production machine. Rising up from field of battle, I stand dizzy in slanting rays of clear sunlight to gaze at meadow of wind-rustling trees where the river flows still from distant hills, and see nothing in the sky except clouds, wild land beyond all nation-states of men. Instead of building new civilization, I want to live free on this fertile land like Adam, who tended trees of ripe fruit, but billions of people who survived war must live together on this spinning globe, so we build new society for all. Our planet spins from hot vibrating coils of atoms woven into minerals which generate creatures with conscious brains so we organize duties of our hands to produce food so everyone can eat, consuming sweet energy of our sun. I see the sun glow like a giant spider that weaves our world from strings of molecules, so I swim in the river of cool water to cleanse my soul of sorrow and despair, then stand singing under the apple tree as I become one mind with the White Whole.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Surviving Our Civil War
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