Seething Fertility Of Nature © Surazeus 2019 03 12 Seething fertility of nature flows through chemical process of flashing blood that nurtures consciousness of dreaming brains in constant regeneration of form that blossoms as tendrils of bones and nerves from spiraling coil of genetic soul. The pregnant woman generates new body of sensitive flesh to conjugate soul of conscious awareness in flashing brain which incarnates flighty imagination bound within limits of chemical shape so immortal God wakes in mortal Human. While Mother Earth molds our bodies from slime with sloshing hunger from swift-swirling sea, and throws us panting for spiritual breath on cold indifferent shore in beams of light, we rise up tall on two feet and stretch arms of hope to fly high, urged by angst of love. Crouching low on river shore among trees, I scope landscape to spot fierce predators, then, gripping stick and stone, I run on wind to attack the wolf that ate half my clan, hurling stone to stun its head as I thrust sharp spear into its heart, and howl its voice. Draping wolf fur cape over my tense shoulders, and, gripping diamond that glitters sunlight, I raise metal wand I dug from foul muck, and lead my clan on winding river shore to curve of placid pool teeming with fish, so boys holding spears form ring to stand guard. Sitting on stone perched on high rounded hill, I hold wand and diamond under tall tree that hangs heavy with apples full of juice, while worshippers kneel and offer me gifts in return for apples from Tree of Life, then drink juice and dance under sparkling stars. Twelve girls pregnant with my children form ring around throne with monolith where I sit and judge disputes people bring to my court, then five men leap from large crowd and hurl spears to kill me and my brides, but I leap swift to break sharp spears and crush their fragile heads. Erecting ring of stones around fruit tree, I build paradise around garden haven surrounding tall tower of stone on high hill where I keep watch over large market town that thrives around sturdy walls of my castle, invisible god whose eye sees all things. I carve commandments on tablets of stone, establishing rules of social behavior which I enforce with harshest punishment to build strong walls of paradise that stands firm against hostile forces of cruel nature to protect society against death. My sons fight civil war for thought control over who will reign as god when I die, but they kill each other with bloody swords, and thousands of my people die from plagues, so I sit alone, last person alive, hungry and cold in prison tower of power. Descending tower of power in castle grounds, where gardens of fruit trees are tangled wild, I walk past skeletons rotting in mud, to stand on river shore in gleaming dawn where my ancestors founded paradise, and watch fish swimming in still-flowing stream. I spear large fish and roast it on hot flames, then sing heart-aching melody of love, alone in paradise reclaimed by nature, and listen to soft voices of dead souls who crowd around me in clear moon-lit night to sing their names forgotten in the wind.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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