Chemical Passion Of Life

Chemical Passion Of Life
© Surazeus
2024 06 25

Vibrant with chemical passion of life, 
I feel electric spirit of our Earth 
buzz in body of every conscious soul 
that glows with bright energy of desire 
who dreams awake this timeless hour of hope 
in pulsing swirl of our atomic globe. 

Emerging from mud of the river shore, 
first mother of humanity stands tall 
to stretch her arms toward blue infinity 
as she breathes deep ethereal thought of love 
that swells her body with sparkles of fear, 
so she shrinks safe in alert shell of hope. 

Caressing her belly with calloused hand, 
first mother peers in mist of dawn-blue rain 
till fuzzy shadow of the apple tree 
glows suddenly divine with golden flame, 
so she walks slowly over rugged heath 
toward tree of truth that rustles in the wind. 

Face of her mother smiling from the sky 
becomes soft roundness of the shifting tree, 
eyes silver as the moon above sharp peaks, 
voice soft as soothing rustle of green leaves 
that whisper firm encouragement of hope 
to shelter in warm embrace of her breast. 

Embracing rough breast of the apple tree, 
first mother sobs with anguish of despair 
when warm ghost of her mother vanishes, 
then she grasps long branch with both hands curled tight 
and swings with agony of hopeless joy 
till she twirls up into the spiral sky. 

Nestled inside canopy of the tree, 
first mother of humanity breathes deep 
with angry inspiration of cold faith, 
then grasps green fruit that contains beams of light 
and eats bitter-sweet wisdom of the rain 
as the tree whispers music in her ears. 

One million years flash in dream of my mind 
since first mother of my electric soul 
climbed tree of life to eat fruit of desire, 
so I see empires rise and fall in tides 
of human tribes that swirl around the Earth 
in her memories that program how I see. 

Primal loneliness of the apple tree 
vibrates still in sweet music of my heart 
because I feel wild passion of her hope 
express compassion in her hymn of faith 
that she sang with ache of love in that tree 
whose wind-voice always wants to sing as me.