Old Spirit Of The Earth © Surazeus 2024 09 04 I feel old spirit of the Earth in water and how it moves through veins of everything, so I stretch my arms up to the Blue Sky and ask Mother Nature to send us rain, so she sprinkles strange beauty on my head that makes my brain blossom with honey flowers. I wonder why bright spirit of my mind can never leave ordered frame of my body, and why I blank out when I fall asleep to float in the nothingness of weird dreams which seem to be lost memories of the dead, then I wake and drink water from the sky. I try to measure proportion of fate that Mother Nature blindly allocates to each person who struggles to design way of living that sustains operation of this organic body which supports chemical functions of my conscious soul. I balance good and evil of the world, apportioned by fortune to each lost soul who suffers pain or pleasure as they go somewhere stranger in the world of forms beyond bounds of reality they know, and find they are both equal in the end. I wake from vision at the flashing roar of a summer thunderstorm crashing wild to chuckle amused my ancestors thought some angry storm god was attacking them, but fortune or misfortune in this life occurs at random we must navigate. I dream old spirit of the Earth in light that beams in threads of flashing molecules from first flash of the big bang that flares forth to weave my body from atomic lust so I wake with unconscious mind of god as pulsing energy of love in flesh. I speak words of thought with breath of the sky projecting visions in the cosmic eye so feelings that pierce my heart with mute pain may fly away on wings of honesty that leaves me free to swim in the vast sea when I return to womb of Mother Nature. I see your face in mirror mask of love that smiles at me from endless temple hall where humans all form the Many-Faced God who teaches me to forget grievances that trap my soul in maze of bitter angst so I can eat fruit from the Tree of Life.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus chants spells to capture fleeting glimpse of Mother Nature in old spirit of the Earth.
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