Joy Of This Hour

Joy Of This Hour
© Surazeus
2024 12 25

Relaxing in the plush leather arm chair 
beside vast window of the spinning Earth, 
I listen to people across the land 
sing anguish of their hearts in solemn hymns 
expressing vain hope that joy of this hour 
will last forever beyond end of time. 

The Earth slowly turns with the wheel of time 
which calculates the path of every soul 
who designs their fate with each choice they make 
to weave mast matrix of conceptual life 
in lithe organic bodies bound by form 
that glow with light till they crumble in death. 

We cannot live forever on this world, 
so on the longest dark night of the year 
we gather with our families and friends 
in warm homes light by fires of frantic faith 
to feast on food we harvest from the Earth 
and sing about the god who never dies. 

The god who never dies has no flesh form, 
for it is spirit of our consciousness 
which emanates from neural net of brains 
in light bulb glow that casts away despair 
till our bodies wither with change of time 
and we are snuffed out by the nothingness. 

Because we fall in nothingness of death 
we gather in grand halls of stone and glass 
and pray to Ungod in the empty sky 
who never responds with rational words 
yet haunts our dreams with grim demonic masks 
we carve on trunks of trees as totem poles. 

From excess passion of electric spine 
that teems with visions we just understand 
I dance with graceful Muse of silent hope, 
embraced in torrents of celestial rain 
that drenches heat-parched fields of sleeping seeds 
so fruit trees sprout from corpses of our gods. 

Slouched half asleep in arm chair by the hearth, 
I feel weird vibes of every human soul 
alive with ache of love on Earth today, 
most of them stuck on narrow roads of hope, 
all of us trudging to our day of doom 
alone in bleak togetherness of faith. 

Since we have labeled everything with names 
we sense is real in cluttered dream of light, 
we know what is real and what was some lie 
after we wake from drear insomnia plague 
to go back home and continue our work 
building illusions in computer world.