Day 7

Apocalypse Dream

The Mother's sigh enlivens leaves,
Dreams are raised on summer breeze,
Our meaning, gleaned from ties to trees:
This life, revealed by wiser beings.

Beauty simple, love and truth,
Complexity rages past our youth.
Humankind inspires chaos, with proof,
Our nature dangerous, faith uncouth.

The forest didn't wish for more
Than space to be, to sway and soar
In gentle wind, and men in sin extort
Those guards, those prophets, all for sport.

Our right? Our right to seed destruction--
See and take, see to nature's disruption,
Breed and break, breed misfortune, dysfunction,
Decree and devolve to wars of assumption.

We torment the worthy, the noble, the saintly,
We squandered our talents, bathed in a vain peace,
Filled these hearts with idols, items, paintings
And obsessed over portraits of perfection, fatefully.

This is what lasts as we fade to the past.
This is the story they'll read through a glass,
These are the artifacts of souls so crass:
These are the people that lived too fast.

But now we could change-- fix these ways,
But now we could live-- find our escape,
But now the man calls-- the mold that he made
Of a soldier, a fighter: a perfect slave.

Uncertain the future, I worry I can't
Inspire the change I want for these lands,
At the end of the day, I'm only a man,
Trapped in this flesh, same as them.

Back to the trees, I see again,
The flaw, the error, it lies in men,
For only we, the "smartest", spend
Our lives in meaningless expense.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 1, Genesis

The creation of this blog symbolizes my step to begin publishing and circulating my work on the largest scale possible. I wish only to make the world a better place as a result of my existence, and every cumulative major event in my life has led me to the realization that this is my true purpose. My gift for writing is not to be ignored, it's not to be hidden any longer: but rather pursued, appreciated, and shared. I am unable to change the world from the pages of a notebook, and thus I present the world with the first glimpse at what I have always dreamed to be my life's work. Without further ado: Genesis Beginnings, sugar sweet as glucose, Pumping through trees meaning new growth And breeze sweeping the land as throes Of mother Nature's diminishing prose, Who will save us, we don't yet know But someone must come to disclose the woes Of a world so furtively breathing below The suffocating breadth of a life we chose. Exploring more, destroying scores Of be...
Read more

Wealth

This excerpt reflects on something I've been thinking about almost every day of my life since I turned 18 and faced the idea of adult responsibility over money and material possessions. The transition to adulthood also carries with it the heavy burden of self maintenance, let alone enrichment, which usually falls behind our other commitments. Without further ado: Wealth Being wealthy is a matter of perspective— I’ve come to know a kind of wealth that has nothing to do with a bank account or physical assets. If you understand this immaterial wealth as I have, you hopefully spend more and more of your time worrying about it’s presence in your life. By extension you will spend less time considering the importance of material wealth and letting it hold you back from helping others. Let me explain: Due to environmental circumstances and self deception so many can not detach themselves from the bondage of anxiety over financial and material wealth. They will spend time wonder...
Read more

Regenesis

21 Becoming more than the person we are, consistently and concertedly, requires we cross the road of material desires and material suffering. There will always be material attachments; I seek not to renounce them but to view them from across a valley, at a distance. Only then will those considerations be secondary to what is truly important. Only from this perspective will I make peace with the depth of suffering that all can identify in the world. “We”, or rather the perception of what we call consciousness, are immaterial. Ideas, dreams— immaterial. Love, hope— immaterial. For those who believe only in science, or simply for the many disenchanted by religion, why do we spend so much time shutting our senses to the immaterial if it contains such things? Because we have had difficulty in attempts at perceiving signals from the immaterial plane? Because there is hypocrisy in the way that some try and decipher and explain the immaterial? In the intangible space that holds our enti...
Read more