God-Haunted Time

God-Haunted Time
© Surazeus
2023 08 27

The holy aura of god-haunted time 
that seems to us, stuck in our present grind, 
to endow the past with mystery of myth, 
radiates from inner objectivity 
expressing beauty of atomic light 
which animates this world with pleasant pain. 

The God who rules celestial halls of light 
that Milton presents as superior power 
persists as deity who creates life, 
but I see him as nothing more than idol 
that embodies concept of the wise king 
whose mortal body contains divine soul. 

All gods that humans worship on this Earth 
are characters preserved in words of tales 
designed by poets to memorialize 
humans who performed creative deeds 
founding institutions of social states 
to maintain civilized order of life. 

The God who overthrows precursor God 
that Keats presents as powers of the mind 
devolve as Titans down from gods to men 
while Apollo ascends from man to God 
through apotheosis of mind control 
to reign as tyrant of morality. 

When I climb pyramid steps of despair, 
lured by Moneta to ruins of faith, 
I find both Saturn and Jehovah frozen 
in psychic stasis of human belief 
as marble statues inside walls of Heaven 
where Milton and Keats drink tea with Apollo. 

To attend his grand march of intellect 
Hyperion activates the Mind of Man 
through quest for self-realization we 
execute to exit gold gates of Heaven 
when we attempt to exile ancient gods 
from theater stage where humans perform. 

Homer sings how Apollo hates Achilles, 
and how Poseidon hates Odysseus, 
then Virgil sings how Hera hates Aeneas, 
while Milton sings how Lucifer rebels 
against Jesus, crowned emperor by his Father, 
and Keats sings how Hyperion hates Apollo. 

These angry gods are symbols of great men 
who claimed immortal power of the stars, 
and thus attacked men to maintain their strength, 
but they have all long vanished into dust, 
those mortal men who performed divine roles, 
now nothing more than characters in myths. 

The ancient gods as symbols of great kings 
presented by Homer, Virgil, and Milton, 
awed Keats with anguish of abandoned faith, 
but they have disappeared in winds of time, 
so now we mortals stride this spinning Earth, 
attempting to play gods with games of power. 

Our nation-states are ruled by haughty men 
who claim their right to rule with coded laws 
through sanction of our democratic vote 
because we recognize that men in power 
are mortals we crown with authority 
to play god for strictly limited terms. 

All gods who ruled on flat-top pyramids 
as strict arbiters of moral behavior 
have frozen into statues in old myths 
so ancient tales depicting their grand deeds 
devolve to fables that record lost history 
as tragic lessons for the wise to learn. 

The only heroes modern epics praise 
are humans who would quest for timeless truth 
by research into true nature of things 
through measurements that state physical laws, 
for we are mortals of immortal atoms 
who savor beauty of life till we die.