Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Surviving Our Civil War

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. 


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