Hymn Of World Peace

Hymn Of World Peace
© Surazeus
2024 06 12

High on ruin-cluttered Palatine Hill, 
where Temple of Apollo once shown bright 
with sacrificial fires in moon-lit night, 
now cattle of Evander graze again 
as if wise son of Pythia never stood 
in columned hall to prophesy our fate. 

While strolling lawn of the National Mall, 
gazing at white dome of the Capitol, 
I see through mists of time centuries ago 
when honest leaders of Monacan tribes 
gathered in council on high flowered hill, 
discussing how to help their people thrive. 

Though senators and representatives, 
elected by people of fifty states, 
gather in sacred chambers of the law, 
they cannot hear the ancient prophesies 
that wise Apollo speaks through Pythia, 
deafened by sweet hiss of the Eden Snake. 

Though I have wandered far across this land 
on nameless roads from sea to shining sea, 
forever searching for the Promised Land, 
which my ancestors wagoned west to find, 
I keep the Holy Grail hidden in my heart 
that gleams in god-eye on the pyramid. 

Since sons of Jesus and Odin still reign 
as Plantagenet Presidents of America 
through Lion King William the Conqueror, 
son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Charlemagne, 
old empire of Romulus in new form 
shines bright from heartland of Gothinia. 

Commissioned by Minerva Liberty, 
who stands guard on top the Capitol dome 
to ensure all live free from slavery, 
cosmic herald walks across fruited plains 
to proclaim coming of messiah sleuth 
who maintains power of democracy. 

While wandering lost in Appalachian hills, 
far from Mount Takoma by Salish Sea 
where Ishtar gave me Quill of Prophecy, 
I hear enchanting voice of Onatah 
whose song beams bright before my hopeful eyes 
vision for United Nations of Earth. 

People walking to work in busy streets 
in every crowded city in the world 
stare annoyed at the old bearded madman 
who bangs rusty strings on broken guitar 
and howls in language no one understands 
hymn of world peace in cold indifferent rain.